The Aftermath
by MzHissyFits
Summary: Harry has to cope with his Godfather's Death and now this: Voldemort attacked a couple in almost the same manner the Potters' were attacked. What did he want from them? And how does Liz fit into it all?
1. A Nightmare of Murder

**Story Summary: **Voldemort is planning something that could destroy half the world. Fortunetely, the information he seeks is so heavily guarded that not even he knows the whole story. He remains one step ahead of Harry, Dumbledore, the Ministry, and the Order and they need desperately to catch up to him before time runs out. The only one who _can_ help them is keeping her lips sealed. She's smart enough to know that Voldemort doesn't have all the information, but unless she speaks out, neither Harry nor Dumbledore can protect her and more importantly the key to the world's destruction.

**Pairings:** Not much Harry romance in this one . . . at least on _really_. Year seven mostly (_my_ year seven not jk rowling's) but in this one it's Hermione/Ron. Lupin gets a girl and a past love of Sirius' is revealed. Tonks gets Bill, Charlie gets a girl too, Neville gets a girl, blah blah blah. Harry gets a _building_ romance. Whether or not anything happens for him is another thing. It's complicated.

**"The Aftermath"**

Chapter One  
A Nightmare of Murder

Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. It half past eleven and all was quiet . . . except for the smallest bedroom. Within that room, a boy was sleeping, and sleeping rather restlessly. Shuffling and rolling over, mumbling and moaning. This boy had jet black hair and his glasses could be seen on his bedside table. Through these glasses, this boy's eyeshad seen horrors and been through terrifying experiences that would turn anyone's dreams into nightmares. With a cry the boy sat up in his bed, covered in cold sweat, and his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He had had one of those dreams again. He grimaced as he remembered he wasn't supposed to be having them anymore. He had been doing a lot better lately. He had been practicing his Occlumency and was beginning to think it had finally paid off. He wanted to be in total control of his mind.But then again, he thought to himself, Voldemort was really, really, seriously moved. Of course he would have this sort of dream. And it wasn't like he was throwing up . . . just a regular twinge of the scar. Not a big deal.

He thought about what he had just seen. There had been Voldemort, of course. He was glad to know that he had not seen the vision from Voldemort's point of view. That, at least, was something. There had been a house. A rather big, pretty looking mansion. He didn't recognize it. There had been two people in the living room, and the living room had this huge plasma screen television, so it had to have been a muggle dwelling. But Voldemort wouldn't waste his time on muggles – he had wizards to deal with. But wait . . . those two people, a man and supposedly his wife, had pulled out their wands when Voldemort had entered. There had been a blinding flash of white light and when Harry could see again, the two had gone and Voldemort was running after them. The two had run to an upstairs bedroom, and barricaded themselves in. Voldemort had yelled something . . . Harry thought hard. Suddenly, he could hear it echoing inside of his head.

"What the bloody hell?" a man's voice had shouted. "Get out of our house!"

"Not until I get what I came for!"

"We have nothing that you want," the man said . . . but he had said it as if he were hiding something.

Voldemort remained silent. The door glowed red and a gasp of uneasiness could be heard from the other side of the door, as if it were taking the person great effort just to keep the door closed.

Harry remembered hearing something else. He remembered someone having a hurried conversation in the room while Voldemort was still struggling with the hex on the door.

"Run! Now! We can't hold this for much longer. Run, do you hear?" the male voice had spoken. "Run, and I don't want you to look back."

"Dad, I'm scared," a terrified voice of a girl said, almost inaudibly. Where had the girl come from?

"Honey, we've been over this before," cried a slightly trembling female voice. She sounded worried, but resolved, andthrough her voice, Harry could almost picture her face - lipstrembling but eyes on fire. He heard her take a deep breath to remove all desperation from her words."You know where to go. If we can, we'll – "

"Kate, there's no time.She has togo!" there was something like a screech of a hawk and the thud of a box or something like it and Voldemort got the door open in time to see the two adults going through a door leading out of the bedroom and into a hall. Harry thought it strange that these two people were dressed in muggle clothing - the man was wearing a t-shirt under an unbuttoned plaid shirt and the woman was wearing a sweater and khakis. They looked around forty years old, maybe a little younger. Harry had a bad feeling about what was going to happen next; a feeling well justified.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!" he shouted. The man fell as the woman shrieked.

"YOU BASTARD!" she screamed and a blast emitted from her wand – a neon blue. Voldemort deflected it with a dismissive wave of his wand.

"Wasting your time and energy on your daughter. Typical," Voldemort said, advancing towards the woman. "I'll never understand why people like you see fit bother with such useless and thankless tasks. What you should have beendoing was protecting the key. You know very well that's what I came for. There's no one left to protect you, so now all you have to do is hand it over. I'll make your death swift."

"Is that so? You have no idea what you're dealing with," the woman sent another blast Voldemort's way, this time a bright magenta and it hit it's mark. But Voldemort was only momentarily staggered.

"I'll ask you but once more," he said.

"Well, sucks for you because you can kill me now because I'm not telling you a damn thing!" the woman, whom Harry now realized was American, ducked low and kicked out, succeeding in physically bringing Voldemort to the ground. This was the last straw for him. The boy could feel Voldemort's rage coursing through him. There was another flash of green light, but the woman was nowhere to be seen.

"Accio key!" Voldemort cried. Nothing happened. "WHERE IS IT!?" he screamed. "WHERE IS IT!?"

This final moment played in the boy's mind. What had Voldemort been looking for? What was this key? What was it a key to? Who were these people? Why had Voldemort have gone to such great heights to kill them himself?

But what did he care. The last time Voldemort had desired something, it had involved him. All that he cared about now was that this time, no one he knew got hurt.

The boy got up and looked out of the window and saw his reflection. And here's the great Harry Potter, he thought. If having the ability to make those around you drop dead makes you such a great guythen yeah, I'm great. Harry scowled and sat on the edge of his bed and put his head in his hands and groaned.

"My parents – my fault," he said to himself quietly. "Cedric – my fault. Sirius – my fault. All of it, it's my fault. All of it." Harry got up and leaned against his bedroom wall. Rational thoughts kept threatening to convince him otherwise. Thoughts like "It's not your fault, it's Voldemort's. You didn't murder them . . . " But Harry just kept saying to himself that he could have prevented it all.IfVoldemorthadn't wantedHarry, his parents would still be alive. He should have taken the Triwizard Cup by himself. That way, Cedric would have seen him leave and alerted Dumbledore. And with Sirius – at this point Harry sank down, sliding down the wall into sitting position. If he hadn't been so eager to play the hero, none of that would have happened. More rational thoughts filled his head. "It's normal to feel you have to prove yourself given these circumstances . . . You just care – that's all, you care." Harry pushed those thoughts away. It _was_ his fault, and nothing could prove to him that it wasn't. Harry's heart filled with self-loathing and self-doubt, because if he was worthless, then, he wouldn't let anyone down. If he believed that he wasn't capable, then he wouldn't try so hard and disappoint himself and he wouldn't hurt anyone else he cared about.

But besides feeling the guilt about the people Voldemort had murdered, Harry was feeling a certain fear of himself. He remembered what he had done to Bellatrix Lestrange . . . and he wasn't the least bit sorry. That's what scared him. He had sunk to their level. He knew how it felt to be tortured with the curse. He knew it was cruel. He knew it was a crime all the way up there next to murder and depriving a person of their free will. He had done it in anger . . . torturing his godfather's murderer –Sirius' own cousin! He had used an Unforgivable Curse. If he had done it just a day earlier, the Prophet would have _loved_ to print the fact. Harry shivered. He wondered whether or not Dumbledore knew what he had done or not.

Harry had had nightmares about that night. They weren't as bad as the nightmares about the graveyard had been, but he had them. It was usually a dream of how Harry would have changed that night if he could. It never went so far as to let him choose not to go to the Department of Mysteries, or not touch the prophecy, but it did let him redo some things. Sometimes the dream allowed the whole group to stay together as they escaped row ninety-seven. That always prevented Ginny and Ron's injuries. Sometimes he got to Dolohov before he could curse Hermione. Sometimes Neville was able to dodge Dolohov's kick. Sometimes, Luna was able to close the door in time. But when it came to that one moment as Bellatrix sent the curse Sirius's way, Harry would always run as fast as he could and arrive simply a millisecond too late. He would always be too late for that.

There was one dream where he actually dived through the veil after Sirius, and for some reason, he found himself at his parents wedding. Everything was silent, but Harry could imagine the cheers that must have been coming from the crowd.

There had been just this one blinding flash of white light, then Harry saw his father and mother kiss, and then Sirius shook James' hand. There was another flash of light, and Harry found himself looking at his family, almost the way he had seen them in the Mirror of Erised all those years ago. An old man with knobbly knees, people with messy jet-black hair, people with bright green eyes, all of them looking at him kindly as he passed. This time, they were all seated at what seemed to be the wedding reception tables. Harry had smiled back, but he could not find a way to speak.

Then, when he reached the last table, the table where the bride and groom sat, the long one that is supposed to hold all the bridesmaids and groomsmen, Harry saw the strangest assortment of people. Some of them he had vaguely recognized from Moody's old photograph of the Order of the Phoenix, including the two women in bridesmaids' dresses sitting next to Lily Potter. Then there was his father and mother. Next to his father was Sirius. Harry wondered to himself where Lupin was.

Then his mother saw him. She had beckoned him with her hand, a wide joyful smile on her face. Harry's father also had a large grin on his face as he waved Harry to him. Harry stepped in front of them, the table separating him from them. His parents stood up. Sirius leaned forward on his elbow interestedly and raised his glass slightly to Harry. Lily Potter put her hands on Harry's shoulders and kissed him once on each cheek, her green eyes sparkling into Harry's own. Her look was not unlike the one that mothers usually give their sons when saying things like, "I'm so proud of you!" or "My, I can't believe what a man you're growing up into!" She pulled away and smoothed out his shirt very motherishly, and straightening the bowtie Harry had not known he was wearing.

James ruffled Harry's hair fondly. Holding a finger up as a signal for Harry to wait a moment, James produced a golden snitch from his pocket. He gave Harry a look that said, "You ready for this?" Harry smiled in reply. James let the snitch go and after about half a second, Harry had it in his hand, very much surprised that he was able to do so. Harry handed back the snitch to his father. James smiled and gave Harry's shoulder a gentle squeeze, as if to say, "That's my boy!".

Sirius offered Harry a sip from his wineglass, but Harry saw the look that his mother was giving Sirius, so he politely declined with a shake of his head. Sirius' threw his head back in a laugh that Harry couldn't hear.

Then, Harry saw Cedric. He held out a copy of Which Broomstick to Harry, winking at Harry as if it were some sort of inside joke,but Harry, feeling a slight unexplained urgency to get going, shook his head. Then, Harry saw the tattered black veil.

His parents, Sirius, and Cedric stood behind Harry as he looked at the veil, and again, he was strangely drawn to it. He started walking towards it, but his mother grabbed his hand, as if saying, "Don't go." Harry looked at their faces. Their expressions had changed from jolly to grim. They were all staring at the veil, except Harry's mother, who was giving Harry a pleading look. Harry felt the veil call to him again. He let go of his mother's hand and went to it. He pulled away the veil. Voldemort's face appeared through the darkness, pale with red eyes, and hissing like a snake. Harry had woken up in a cold sweat.

That had been the night he came back to Privet Drive. He never had that dream again. It was not until the morning after that Harry had realized that all the people he had seen in the dream were dead.

It was now midnight. Harry had been at Privet Drive for a week – longer than he could stand. But where else could he go? The Burrow wasn't safe enough . . . and Headquarters . . . Headquarters had too many bad memories. Harry sighed. He would have to tell of his dream to Dumbledore, but how? Harry stood up again. Now he was shaking. Still trembling slightly, Harry got back into bed. This time, he slept a dreamless sleep.

Harry got up late the next morning and for once in a long time he had a restful sleep. He was able to grab a bit of leftovers before his Aunt Petunia cleared the table brusquely giving him a rather dirty look. Harry had a feeling the Dursleys wouldn't care if he told them what he had been through not two weeks before. They probably wouldn't see it as an excuse for his behavior anyway. Harry spent a lot of time locked in his room, everyday waiting for the post. This morning he had found an owl waiting for him on his desk. It was carrying the Daily Prophet. Harry was eager to read it.

Harry perused the paper for a story on what he had seen. There was nothing. Did they not know? Or were they keeping it quiet? Harry resolved to write for answers and then there was something that quite distracted him. On the last page there was a story that made his stomach turn. Apparently, Dumbledore was trying to convince the Wizenmagot of Sirius's innocence. But everyone blatantly refused to believe this despite the testimony of Dumbledore himself, and all the members of the ministry who were in the Order.

**Albus Dumbledore was litagating to a skeptical Wizenmagot this afternoon. Many people who are old enough to remember recall that Dumbledore actually testified against Black when he was convicted. Dumbledore also was very adamant in thecapture of Black when he escaped from Azkaban three years ago when, as it was revealed last week,it was believed by the Ministry that Black wanted to kill Harry Potter.**

** Another version of the story has now been released. Apparently, Black and his schoolfriends, including James Potter and Peter Pettigrew, were illegal Animagi, which would account for Black's escape fromAzkaban. This new theory which has yet to be fully proven, involves the fact that Peter Pettigrew was never really killed and that Black had not been the one whohad led He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to the Potters' cottage. **

** This story shocked many. Even more shocking was that this story was not new to the Ministry.Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge himself admitted that three years ago when Hogwarts students were almost out for the summer holidays, he was told this same story from Black himself and a garbled version from Harry Potter and his friends, who were all in the hospital and at the time considered too confused and injured to be taken seriously. They had mentioned that the Ministry had gotten the wrong man and that Pettigrew was the one they needed - the one who had escaped.It surprised many witches and wizards of the court that had not known this that this version of events had not even been taken into consideration. **

** But there were other factors involved, as was discussed in court, such as the fact that there were no reliable eye witnesses attesting to the livelihood of Peter Pettigrew at the time and no evidence that they were in fact Animagi. As Black is allegedly dead (his body is as lost where it is as it would be on the bottom of the ocean)) and Pettigrew nowhere to be found, this story is too hard to believe for many. However, the questioned Death Eaters have confirmed, however indirectly, that the spell You-Know-Who used to bring himself back must have required help from a capable enough wizard and Harry Potter's own story of what happened a little over a year ago says that Pettigrew was there. Many people have testified that for the past two years, Black has been fighting against You-Know-Who. **

** The Death Eaters being held in custody have also confirmed that Black had not been with them and one had also sustained an injury from Black himself. Apparently, Harry Potter's own prized Firebolt broomstick was a gift from Black - who is indeed Potter's godfather.The only thing needed to prove Black's innocence once and for all is Peter Pettigrew.**

Harry threw the paper across the room. Half because he was angry that he wasn't allowed to defend his godfather for once and for all, and half because he was still feeling responsible for Sirius's death. It took him a while to settle down enough to sit down and write his letter to Remus Lupin. They had told Harry in their first letter to him (they being Dumbledore) to address all his letters to Lupin so that his letters weren't too suspicious as Lupin was the only remaining _good_ friend of his parents. There was no name on the outside of the envelope. Hedwig was a smart owl. When Harry said "Lupin" she knew where to go. Harry used the code he was taught – every ten words in the letter was part of the message he wanted to convey. The in-between words just rubbish. When Harry was finished he made sure that every ten words were right.

"I . . . had . . . another . . . dream . . . something . . . you . . . need . . . to . .. know," Harry mumbled to himself. "Yeah, good enough." He rolled the parchment up and tied it to his Hedwig's, his owl, leg. "This is my update, Hedwig. Take it there." She hooted serenely and headed off into the bright morning light.

Harry didn't know exactly what he expected. He knew someone would be sent down. He probably wouldn't get an explanation, but he'd probably be able to wheedle out some important information, like the date and time he was going to be liberated from the Dursley Death Camp.

Now all Harry had to do was wait.


	2. The Visit

The Aftermath

Chapter Two  
The Visit

It had been three days. Dumbledore had responded that though he would like to come to Harry himself, he was rather busy with preparations for his arrival. He was sending Lupin instead. Lupin was due to Apparate into Harry's room any moment now. They had thought it best to keep this visit from the Dursleys. There was a faint pop behind Harry and he turned.

_There he is_, Harry thought. _And there he's not_, he thought as Lupin slipped and fell on Harry's pile of half read Daily Prophets.

"Hope I didn't wake anybody," Lupin said quietly as Harry helped him up, the both of them grinning. Harry sat back down on the bed as Lupin brushed himself off.

"So Harry," he said sitting on Harry's desk chair. "What's up? Besides being unable to clean your room?"

Harry explained the dream he had had. He ended, "He was looking for something – a key. And before you start to lecture me, I _have_ been practicing Occlumency and I've been getting much better, truly. I didn't see it from his head and it wasn't so intense. It was like I was seeing it all through a clouded window."

Lupin nodded, now frowning, "We'll have to verify that."

"I understand," Harry said, remembering once more his History of Magic OWL exam.

"But it would probably be a waste of time . . . " Lupin said, more to himself than to Harry.

"Huh?"

Lupin got up and began to pace. "Kate . . . the only Kate I know of that Voldemort would find important enough to go after personally would be . . . but if both Tom and Kate are dead . . . "

"I don't get it," Harry said, frowning up at Lupin, who was still pacing. "Who're Kate and Tom?"

"People who apparently paid dearly for their bravery," Lupin said sitting down once more.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"This _Kate_ you spoke of," Lupin said, "Did she have an American accent?"

"Yeah, she did."

"Damn," Lupin said.

"_What?_"

"Tom and Kate were supposed to contact us two days ago," Lupin said. "They said they had information they needed to give Dumbledore. They said that he was the only one who could keep it safe. They wouldn't tell us anything else. But the both of them are deep into government stuff. They're greatly respected; people all over the world trust them with special projects. They've been great assets to Dumbledore for many years providing him with all sorts of information that he's used to locate Voldemort in Albania, information that he's used to recruit people willing into the Order, and they serve as his connections to powerful people in several different Wizarding governments. Tom even got Dumbledore the Riddle House. Tom's muggle brother is a lawyer. The point is, _they know things_. _They do things._ Important things. The secrets they keep endanger their lives, and they took great risks in coming to Dumbldore. They've been smart about how they've gone about it, and careful planning mixed in with a little luck has kept them safe from Voldemort thus far. But if what you saw was real, then he finally got to them."

"What did he want from them?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Lupin said, shaking his head dismally, "I have a feeling that's why they so urgently wanted to speak to Dumbledore. But they never got to."

"So we don't know what he's planning? " Harry said, looking up at Lupin, terrified.

"He's planning something big. I've got a hunch he's going to go after you again, but if I know Tom and Kate like I do, this time he's got a whole lot of firepower behind him. They work on a _huge_ scope – not only on stuff that affects wizards, but also muggles, and the whole ecosystem. They've been working on projects such as figuring out how to permanently close up the holes in the o-zone layer for years. Voldemort's got the best of both strategies: he's got the capacity of doing something huge, and he also has the advantage of surprise because we don't know what the hell he's trying to do . . . but maybe he doesn't know what the hell he's trying to do."

"We can only hope," Harry said.

"But you have to be really careful, Harry," Lupin said. "Somebody could get seriously hurt – most especially you."

"I hate that!" Harry said angrily standing up and banging his hand against the bedpost.

"What?" Lupin asked, surprised.

"It's bad enough he wants me killed, but he has to involve others as well. It makes me so mad. If it weren't for me – "

But Lupin could see where this was going. He took Harry by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "Listen to me Harry," he said firmly. "None of this, and I mean _none_ of this is, or ever has been your fault. It's all him Harry. Don't beat yourself up over Voldemort – he's not worth that. In many ways Harry, you're a hundred times a better wizard than he could ever be. He's not worth it. We're going to beat him, Harry. And this time, it'll be for good."

Harry looked up at Lupin, bewildered. Here was a man who had two of his best friends, three if you counted Harry's mother, murdered, and yet . . . he still had hope. He was still determined to see Voldemort fall, and still confidant that it would happen. If there was any other time Harry had to learn by example, this had to be the most important of all. Harry, unable to speak, nodded. He now felt fortified, protected, like nothing Voldemort could do now could hurt him any longer . . . at least for now. "Thank you," Harry said, at a loss for anything better to say. Then he found he had something to ask.

"Do you know _how_ he's going to do it? Do you know how to stop him?"

"Well, if all the facts check out, I think we may, but it's still a really sensitive case Harry," Lupin answered him with a stern and worried look. "But if he hasn't found it . . . ." he continued to himself and sighed. "But we haven't found it either . . . " he said to himself almost inaudibly. His brow furrowed some more.

He looked at Harry, and his look softened. "I'll have to run now, Harry. But remember, expect the unexpected and have faith. You'll be fine." He said this last bit, again, more to himself than to Harry. Harry wasn't sure whether he'd be all right, but considering what he'd been through so far, he figured he was doing pretty well. Lupin was talking again. "We're setting up a new safe house," he was saying. "You'll be there by your birthday. Hopefully the week before."

Harry sighed. "So I have to stay here another three weeks?"

"I'm afraid you do. Are the Dursleys giving you any trouble? Are they feeding you?" some of his regular concern crept back into his voice.

Harry laughed. "Yeah, they're still afraid of what you, Tonks, and Moody might do to them. Thanks for that by the way."

"No, it was our pleasure. And I'm sure Mad-Eye in particular had fun. Well, see you around, Harry. Take care." And with that, Lupin Disapparated with a faint pop.

Harry sighed again and started to tidy up his room, which had reached that pivotal point of "tidy up or die."


	3. A New Acquaintance

The Aftermath

Chapter Three  
A New Acquaintance

Harry endured a few more days with the Dursleys before he felt the need for an escape. It was 6 in the evening when Harry left Number Four and headed to the neighborhood park. It was a nice summer day. It wasn't too hot and there was even an occasional cool, evening breeze as the sun sank behind the rows and rows of suburban houses. He sat in the last swing that hadn't been mangled by his cousin, his shoes scuffing the ground.

"I was going to sit there," said a gentle voice behind Harry.

He looked around to see a girl about his own age or a little younger standing there. She was staring off onto the horizon. She was wearing a baby blue visor, blue tinted sunglasses with black frames, a white mini t-shirt that had light blue sleeves and collar trim to match her visor, and a pair of dark jeans. She stood with her hands in her pockets.

"That's okay," she said. "I don't feel like sitting anyway." She walked forward and leaned against the poles that held the swings. Her voice sounded familiar, but Harry concentrated on her accent – which was British, but with a hint of something else.

"So, who are you?" she asked, not looking at him.

"It doesn't matter. Don't see why you should care," he said a bit shortly. At the moment, he didn't quite care about being rude. She had intruded on his solitude after all.

"I'm new here. I moved here with my dad's brother. We had to move out here because there wasn't room for me at their old house. I'd rather be on friendly terms with my neighbors, because if your neighbors don't like you, they're more likely to steal the trash bins and litter on your lawn," she responded, still not looking directly at him.

"I'm Harry Potter," he said with a small laugh.

Finally, she looked at him. "Really?"

He looked up at her. She couldn't be a witch, could she? "Yeah, what's it to you?"

She looked away. "I don't know. It's just a bit hard to believe that I'm standing next to a hardened criminal boy."

Of course, Harry thought. He shrugged. "I suppose if hating detesting relatives is a crime, then yes, that makes me an incurable criminal."

The girl laughed. "I guess that would be understandable, but every family has its good points . . ."

Harry sighed. "Unfortunetely, mine don't."

"I'll take your word for it," she said.

The girl turned toward him, and he looked up. "I had an encounter with your cousin yesterday, when we were moving stuff into the house. He tried to steal my cousin's motorbike. Imagine, stealing from a boy four years younger than yourself! And as if that whale of a boy could ride that bike – he'd squash it the moment he got on! No offense or anything."

Harry laughed. "None taken. That's Duds all right. His most distinguishing features are big and stupid. But there are ways to beat him."

"Yeah," she said, crossing her arms and again looking off into the sunset, or rather the spot where the sun had set a moment before, "We took care of him. He'll think twice about bothering Shane again."

"I'm impressed," Harry said. "Most kids in this neighborhood scurry into the nearest bush at the sight of Dudley."

"Well, most kids are cowards," she shrugged then checked her watch. "See you around, Harry." She began to walk away.

"And what's your name?" Harry asked, and she stopped and turned back to him. "Liz, Elizabeth Cain." She smiled (rather prettily) and walked away, her short, dark brown ponytail blowing in the breeze.

Harry hesitated, then set off down the street in the direction of Number Four, Privet Drive.

* * *

"They're saying that the new family on the next street is very rich. They loaded at least three trucks of furniture and boxes into that house!" Aunt Petunia was saying over breakfast the next morning. "Apparently, the father is a well accomplished barrister and the wife, well she's a surgeon."

"Really? I wonder if they would invest. With that kind of money we could take a three week cruise in the Caribbean," said Uncle Vernon, pulling thoughtfully at his mustache.

"And there are three children with them, two girls Duddykin's age and an eleven or twelve year old boy," Aunt Petunia went on.

Dudley grunted sulkily. Aunt Petunia looked up, "Really darling, the cucumbers will help you get nice strong muscles for your wrestling!" But Harry had a good feeling that Dudley wasn't just unhappy with the food.

"I don't think the girls are sisters though. One has brown hair and the other has blonde hair," continued Aunt Petunia.

Harry grew bored. He got himself excused early and left his aunt and uncle gossip some more about the Wallaces.

It became evident over the next few days that the family had been invited for dinner, and that it had taken a good amount of persuasion to get the family to agree to the visit. The Dursley's had made it clear that Harry wasn't invited, and they weren't going to bother to get him a suit for the occasion. Harry shrugged this off. He didn't much care. The night of the dinner he was up alone in his room early. He heard the doorbell ring and he turned the light on in his darkening room. He had cleaned his room the night before, so there was nothing he could do but sit around and wait. Hopefully, it would only be another week before he got to leave. He was glad he didn't have to go back to Grimmauld Place, but he wasn't too chuffed about not getting to spend time with Ron and Hermione. But maybe he would, you never knew.

Harry heard sounds drifting up from downstairs. A young boy was asking where the bathroom was and Harry heard someone stumbling hurriedly up the stairs. He watched as the door opened and a boy with sandy colored hair crept into his room backwards, and closing the door quietly with a sigh of relief. The boy turned around and saw Harry and jumped about a foot in the air with surprise.

"Who're you?" he said, giving Harry and analyzing look.

"Harry Potter," Harry responded, watching for the boy's reaction.

The boy looked terrified. Harry said quickly, "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I suppose you're avoiding my cousin?"

"Yeah," the boy said, still looking warily at Harry.

"That's understandable," Harry said nodding.

"Hey, it's not like I couldn't beat him," the boy said standing up as straight as he could and crossing his arms. "It's just that I don't want to do anything rough in front of my parents."

"There's no need to get defensive, I'm just saying that – " Harry stopped as he heard a voice say, "I'm going to see where Shane's got to." And another voice saying "I'll come along too." Something stirred in Harry's memory and the boy, Shane, looked up at Harry pleadingly.

"Don't look at me – your screwed mate," Harry said, his eye on the door.

Sure enough, two girls, one vaguely familiar, in flowy type dresses came in. One was blonde and the other had dark brown hair with platinum blonde highlights. The blonde girl, who was wearing a pink dress and had her hair up in a bun went directly to Shane and said, "Kiddo, what are you doing here?" She glanced at Harry suspiciously as the other girl rolled her eyes.

"It's all right Kerrie, he's not a lunatic criminal, I don't think . . . " Shane told her, grinning at Harry.

"He better not be," the girl, Kerrie, said, still looking daggers at Harry.

"Karen, exactly how many times do I have to tell you he's all right!?" said the other girl exasperatedly. Harry realized why she looked familiar (about time). It was Liz – it had to be. New family, two cousins, both with the names she mentioned. But really, it wasn't surprising that Harry hadn't recognized her at first. She had been wearing sunglasses that covered her eyes and her visor had kept half her face in shadow. And her hair was completely different; it did have highlights now, and it was also down and it curled slightly at her shoulders. And on top of that, she was wearing a green dress and looked about three inches taller because of her heels. She walked forward and stood behind Shane, her arm resting on his shoulder. With her standing there, Harry could see that with the heels she was still shorter than him, albeit by one or two inches.

"Remember me?" she asked, smiling sweetly.

"Yeah, yeah, I do," Harry said, shuffling awkwardly.

"We're sorry if he disturbed you or anything," Kerrie said, with a tone that said he had gained her approval.

"How old are you?" Shane asked Harry.

"I'll be sixteen by the end of July. You?" Harry asked anyway, even though he knew the answer.

"I'm eleven. Kerrie's older than you by about three months. Lizzy was born in July too, but she'll be fifteen this year," Shane said, doing the calculations in his head.

Harry raised his eyebrows and grinned. "You learn something new everyday."

Kerrie looked back at the door. "We have to get going now. Mum and Dad will be wondering where we are." She jerked her head to the door.

"Good bye Mr. Potter, you're welcome to visit us anytime you please," she said rather formally.

"Yeah, drop by, it's nice to know one decent person in the middle of nowhere," Shane said scurrying out of the door.

"Er, see ya around," Liz said departing and shutting the door behind her.

Harry listened as the three of them headed down the stairs and he turned back to the window. He doubted whether or not he'd have the opportunity to take them up on their offer.


	4. More to the Story

The Aftermath

Chapter Four  
More to the Story

Harry woke up the next morning to the sound of the owl post. It was only five in the morning, but the sun was already rising (A/N: it does! i woke up at 4:30 when I was there because of that sun!). Harry opened his window letting in the owl, who was carrying another Daily Prophet, and also letting in a refreshing morning breeze. He paid the owl and spent a few moments by the window watching it soar away before opening his paper.

Harry found an article on Azkaban. Aparently, Dementors were becoming too hard to manage and multitudes were disappearing. Prisoners were force-fed sleeping draughts to keep them subdued while the Department of Defense and the Department of Law Enforcement were contemplating alternate punishments that could be experimented with in the absence of Dementors.

Harry also found an article devoted to Lucius Malfoy. Upon his arrest in the Department of Mysteries, Ministry officials began checking more closely into the Malfoy affairs and found rather astonishing things. For years it seems that Malfoy has been simply a wealthy patron to many government operations - and just that. Now it has been discovered that he is also in practice of the Dark Arts. Many Dark Artifacts were discovered the the Malfoy Manor as well as a ledger that connected Malfoy to an artifact _known _to be responsible for seven near-deaths at Hogwarts a few years back. These artifacts have been confiscated and much of it destroyed. The manor is stil under search and Lucius Malfoy's wife, Narcissa, and their son, Draco, are currently living ina relative's home - the widow Araminta Meliflua. They wait to be able to return to their home which will be much more empty than it had been when they left . . . and that includes both the propertyconfiscated and the man who will not be returning anytime soon.The Wizenmagot finalized his sentence: twenty-five years tofifty in prison.

Harry scanned the rest of the paper but the only other interesting items he found were adds encouraging taking Curse Self-Defense Classes. At seven, Harry went down to breakfast.

Apparently, the wealthy couple had not seemed interested in investing in Uncle Vernon's company from the way that he was ranting and raving about them to Aunt Petunia.

"And they have terrible manners!" Uncle Vernon was saying as Harry walked in. "He didn't even laugh at my Japanese golfer joke! Racist! That's not being racist – it's called having a sense of humor!"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Mrs. Wallace gave such a cold, glowering look when I gave her a compliment on her dress," commented Aunt Petunia.

_There's a difference between a compliment and sucking up_, Harry thought.

"And their niece – what kind of hairstyle is that?"

_I thought it looked sort of nice,_ Harry said to himself.

"Really, it is shameful!"

Harry got tired of this conversation long before he was able to escape breakfast. When he was finally excused, he went up to his bedroom. He sat down to write another update letter to the Order saying he was doing okay, but just bored. He sent the letter with Hedwig and went off at noon to the park. When he got to the swings, he smiled at the sight he saw; there was Liz Cain, swaying backwards and forwards on the swing to the tune she was humming. Hesitating for one more moment, he grinned wider and said,

"I was going to sit there."

She stopped humming and swung around. "Too bad," she said. Today she was wearing a jean jacket, a jean skirt, and knee high navy blue suede boots tied with strings if brown leather. "But if you really want to sit down . . . " She made a quarter turn in her swing and kicked the one next to her. It wiggled on its chain and then started turning, untangling itself as it went.

Harry sat down in it, slightly surprised and a little impressed. "Thanks."

"No problem," Liz said smiling and turning her head away. Her hair was straighter and longer than the previous night and it had one thin braid to one said of her head tied with a small length of brown leather lacing that trailed over her shoulder and her hair seemed a bit more reddish than Harry had remembered and it was without highlights.

Slightly puzzled Harry contemplated what to say to her. He felt compelled to talk as she was sitting right next to him, but he didn't know exactly what to say. He was saved from this decision when she spoke.

"My cousin, Karen, still isn't sure whether or not you're a criminal boy," Liz said lightly as if it were as normal a statement as "Hi, how are you?"

"You can assure her that I'm not," Harry said wishing that he had picked the subject.

"I'm trying, but she has heard the you go to St. Brutus's School for Incurable Criminal Boys," she paused, then, "I didn't even know there was such a thing."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe there isn't." He didn't know why he was saying this, but seeing as how Uncle Vernon had this rumor well established, he didn't think it would matter if he denied it.

"Maybe, but if there wasn't, where do you go to school?"

"I didn't think you were this nosy when I met you," Harry said uncomfortably.

She laughed. "Define 'nosy' will you?"

Harry shrugged, grinning slightly. "Okay, I guess you weren't being that nosy."

They started swinging slightly. After a while, Harry commented, "It's nice that you have relatives to visit during the summer."

"Yeah," Liz said in a sort of strained voice. "I guess it is."

"It'd be great if I didn't have to stay with the Dursleys," Harry said. He waited for Liz to ask about his parents.

She didn't. "It probably would be nice. But then who could I hang out with while my cousins are busy with their numerous dancing, music, sport and whatever else they have as extra lessons?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'd think of something," Harry said. "But then who would _I_ hang out with while my own revolting cousin is out terrorizing the neighborhood once you've gone back home?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'd think of something," Liz said.

"You chose a rather odd time to visit with your relatives," Harry said.

Liz frowned. "How so?"

"Well, they're just moving in," Harry said.

"I'm just moving in," Liz said.

"Moving in . . . ?"

"With them. I'm moving in with them. I'm going to be living there a while."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Harry waited for an explanation. After a bit, he contemplated just asking, but he figured that if she wanted to explain, she would have already. So, he said, "You're going to be living there for . . . a while?"

Liz shrugged. "Yeah. I'm not exactly sure how long. I think only long enough to get settled. Then I'm off again."

Harry waited yet again for an explanation. None came. He decided to ask this time. "Off again?"

"Yup," Liz said, sighing. "It wouldn't be fair for me to . . . intrude too long on their hospitality in such a . . . crucial time . . . crucial time meaning adjusting to a new environment and stuff . . . and other . . . stuff. Yeah. I think I just confused myself. Anyway, I have to go someplace my parents picked out for me before . . . well, yeah . . . it's more suitable, I guess . . . safer . . . comfortable . . . I just confused myself again."

Harry frowned, puzzled, but he nodded and pretended to understand anyway. "Er . . . yeah . . . that's . . . uh huh."

Liz looked at him and laughed. "Sorry, it's complicated."

"Yeah. Yeah it is."

They swung a little higher.

"So," Harry said, as they passed one another. He was about to ask why she had to move in with her relatives in the first place.

She seemed to know this. This was impossible though. Maybe it was just a weird coincidence of timing. In any case, she said suddenly, "Bet I can beat you on the jump!" and then she practically flew off the swing, did a sort of Triple Lutz from the swing, and then, impossibly, landed on her feet.

"Whoa!" Harry said, skidding to a halt from his own leap beside her.

"It's a good thing these boots have sturdy heels – not like those idiotic stilettos. Honestly, who wears those? That sounded extremely shallow. Forget I said that."

Harry stared. Then he quickly shook his head. "Whatever. What _was _that?"

"No idea. But what I _do_ know is that I haven't walked my dog, Kima, yet. And Kima gets cranky when she has to stay indoors for too long. And I might as well walk Togo, Kerrie and Shane's dog, too while I'm at it. I gotta go. See you around!" And with that she disappeared around the corner.

_That was rather abrupt_, Harry thought to himself. _I was going to ask her something, wasn't I?_ _Damn, I forgot._

Harry found himself on the lookout for her whenever he took a walk out.

The next time he saw Liz; it was one week later when she was walking a white Siberian husky and a gray and white Akita. She had headphones on which were attached to a portable CD player and he couldn't grab her attention.

But the strange thing was that he didn't really know _why_ he wanted to talk to her.

- - -

Harry was walking around the neighborhood knowing that in possibly a day or two he'd be far away from this place. He figured he ought to say goodbye to the Wallace kids, and Liz Cain, but he didn't quite know how to go about it. He finally decided to just walk by their house. Harry heard them playing long before he could see them.

"Gotcha!" yelled Shane's voice as Harry peered behind a bush and into their yard.

Shane had just used a watergun to soak his sister.

"Oh, you've gone and made her mad," Liz said, clicking her tongue. She was sitting in a rocking chair on the porch with a t-shirt and shorts on and her hair up in a loose bun fastened with hair sticks. "Better watch yourself, Shane. Remember what happened next year?"

Shane seemed to have realized what Liz was talking about because he took off running. But Karen was too quick for him.

She had been sitting on the other side of the porch and she had stashed a bin of water balloons under her chair and she got her little brother right in the back of his head.

"Guess again, squirt," she said matter-of-factly, although Harry could see a little smile forming on her face.

"Good arm," he said, stepping out from behind the bush.

"Yeah," Shane said, rubbing the back of his head, "but because she's my sister, that's not a good thing."

"Hey Harry," Liz said lazily. "Kinda hot for a walk isn't it?"

"Nah, I'm all right," Harry answered.

At that moment, a car pulled into the driveway - a Rolls Royce. Mr. Wallace, a man in his mid-forties or a little younger,stepped out wearing a navy blue suit with a light blue shirt and loosened tie. He had blue eyes andwavy brown hair that wasbeginning to gray. His shoulders were broad and looked as if he could have been a professional rugby player . . .if he hadn'tbeen wearing a suit that is. There were wrinkles around his mouth andeyes that suggested that he laughed often. He walked briskly, and was unbuttoning his collar as he went as if the suit and tie deal was only something he tolerated.Shane automatically ran for him and the girls stood up grinning.

"Whoa kiddo!" Mr. Wallace said, laughing. "Do the math - you're wet and sweaty and I'm in a suit."

"Oh, yeah, sorry dad!" Shane said, screeching to a halt. "Wanna play though?"

"Just give me a minute to get changed and I'll show you the _real_ way to handle that watergun," Mr. Wallace said, ruffling Shane's wet hair. Then he saw Harry. "Hi there!" he said waving.

"That's Harry Potter, Dad," Kerrie said. "He lives over on Privet Drive."

"Well that's great," Mr. Wallace said cheerfully. "Would you like to come in, get a drink or something? It's kind of hot out." When Harry hesitated, Mr. Wallace said, "Don't be a stranger young man - we wouldn't be doing our civil duty if we just left you out here and condemned you to heat stroke."

"O . . . kay," Harry said. "That'd be nice."

"Great."

Mrs. Wallace appeared just as they all were trudging indoors. She was wearing a gray knee length skirt and a pink and white pinstriped shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She had straight blond hair with hazel eyes that were thoughtful and kind. They brightened warmly as she surveyed them all."There's ice cream in the freezer kids. We can make some milkshakes. Are you the Potter boy I heard about? The one who lives with the Dursleys?"

"Yes ma'am," Harry replied.

"Nice to meet you, then," she said smiling. "Hello dear," she said, kissing her husband. "You're home a little early. Were you able to get out of that meeting?"

"Yup, I told the partners that I had to take my son to the dentist," he answered. "That reminds me, we'll have to find a new dentist. We can't go to the Granger's anymore. I'll have to call them . . ." he said, but most of this speech was drowned out to Harry, Liz, Karen, and Shane as they were using the blender to mix the ice cream and milk.

And Harry spent the rest of the afternoon in a waterfight that included _all_ of the Wallaces. Mr. Wallace changed into a pair of swimming trunks and a t-shirt and brought out a turbo-blaster. Mrs. Wallace prefferred the pressure water pump, Harry, Liz, and Kerrie stuck to water balloons, and Shane had all of these weapons in his arsenal.

Afterwards, Mrs. Wallace found Harry a pair of mock army pants and a Quicksilver t-shirt to replace his wet clothes. They were given to Shane by a senile grandmother who seemed to think Shane was fifteen instead of eleven. The clothes fit Harry fine and Liz found Harry a jacket, to keep out the cold of the falling night.

All in all, the family seemed perfectly happy . . . but then Harry came back from the bathroom and overheard Liz and Karen talking in Liz's bedroom.

"You seem to be handling this all pretty well, Lizzy," Karen was saying.

"You sound suspicious."

"Suspicious? That's silly. But really, you're parents - they just - "

"Do we have to talk about this now? I'm kinda tired, Kerrie."

"Okay, but if you ever need to - "

"I'm serious, Karen," Liz said. "I _don't_ want to talk about it."

"Fine then."

Harry moved quickly down the hall to avoid being seen by Karen as she stormed out of Liz's room.

_What was all that about?_ he thought.

He said his goodbyes and headed back to Number 4 wondering why, even if the Liz and Karen's families had their problems, the Dursley's couldn't be more like them.


	5. The Moonlight Getaway

The Aftermath

Chapter Five  
The Moonlight Getaway

Harry didn't have much time to contemplate this thought, because the next morning he received a letter that he would be transported to a safe house the next day, so he got ready. He packed his things and he waited.

His guard arrived at a quarter past seven. The guard took him somewhere near London as before (they passed over the city), but not Grimmauld Place. Harry supposed that Dumbledore wanted to keep an eye on him.

"Here we are!" Lupin called.

Harry, however, was at a loss as to where "here" was. They had landed in a sort of dip four feet deep, and in some places several meters deep, and miles wide in the middle of a meadow.

Moody handed him a piece of paper, not unlike the paper he had handed him the year before. It was from Dumbledore (undoubtedly secret keeper of the safe house) and it said, "The Order's chosen holding place is the Moonlight Manor." Harry read that and thought about it as Moody burned the slip of paper. Nothing happened.

"Huh?" Harry said aloud.

"Shh!" hushed Lupin. "There's a reason it's named Moonlight Manor, Harry – it can only fully be seen at a crescent moon and if you haven't noticed, there is no moon at the moment. So, technically, you can't see it at all. You can half see it during half moons, and see 25 of it during quarter moons, but none of it during full or no moons, or when it's daylight. The only day you can see it is on the anniversary of it's completion which is Christmas day."

"Then how are we supposed to get it?" Harry asked.

"By making our own moonlight," Tonks said quietly.

She pulled out her wand. "This is a handy little spell the owner of the place taught us a while back." She muttered a few words that seemed to have a lot of long "I" sounds and a circualar beam of silver light sprouted out of her wand. "Now think of the name, Harry."

He did so as she pointed the beam of silver light in front of her. Suddenly, he could see a circle in midair that looked like it part of a door. Kingsley (who was there as well) walked forward and opened it and Harry caught a glimpse of a brightly lit hallway.

"Come along, Harry," said a witch with silver hair.

And then Harry was practically pushed into the doorway and the door shut behind them.

"Harry," said Lupin, smiling broadly, "Welcome to Moonlight Manor."

When Harry had become accustomed to the light, he saw that this place had to be just as rich as Grimmauld Place, except completely opposite when it came to tone of decoration.

All the colors were light. There was white, peach, and the hardwood floors were made of lighter wood and highly polished. This place, which had no cobwebs to speak of, looked anything but abandoned. The candles had little lampshades on them that gave the hall a sort of bright glow. Harry could see that the umbrella stand (in the shape of an umbrella), the shoe rack, the coat hooks, and the lamps (which were attached to the walls) were made of solid gold. The lamps even had _diamonds_ hanging on them. Not to mention the doorknobs, for there were many doors along the hallway.

"Ah, here we go," Tonks said, pointing out a hallway branching off to their right. It was dark there until she snapped her fingers in it. The lamps immediately lit up and on the wall in a picture frame was a map. A very detailed and expansive map. This map proved that the place Harry had just entered, was huge. There were numerous corridors and countless rooms.

"Copy please!" Tonks said to it and suddenly, a copy emerged from the bottom of the frame.

"Zoom format!" she said to the copy she had in her hand. It shrank to the size of an 8 inch by 11 inch piece of paper, though only showed a section.

"Here you are, Harry," she said brightly handing the map to Harry. "To look at the other parts of the map just say to it up, down, left, or right and it'll move the view in that direction. This place is big Harry, you'll need it. You're in Guestroom Seven, we'll be in the kitchen with Molly preparing dinner for you."

"Whoa," was all Harry could say.

"I know, it's cool isn't it?" Tonks said to him almost jumping up and down.

Harry looked up from his map. "What about Ron and Hermione?"

"Oh, they're here too," Tonks said. "All of the underage kids are here, but don't worry. You all get weekly updates, we wouldn't deprive you of the important information after what you all did last month!"

"Wicked! But, wait, Fred and George?" Harry inquired.

"They're here as well – it's more accommodating. And it's not like we'd tell them any more than we'd tell you guys. Molly agreed to let them join the Order after Christmas, but not yet. It's closer to Diagon Alley than the Burrow so they make the commute from here," Lupin answered.

"You'd better be off, Harry, you don't want to keep anyone waiting!" Tonks said shooing Harry in the right direction.

They disappeared down the main hall leaving Harry very confused in what the map had labeled as "Wizard Wing Hallway."

"But where's the way to Guestroom Seven?" he said to himself.

But the map immediately showed the whole manor view with a red line showing him the route. The route was full of twists and turns so Harry had to be attentive, even though the map had a labeled dot that said "You are here."

As Harry walked he went through dens and parlors that had different themes to them. Some had specific color themes like blue, purple, or black and silver. Some were decorated with music notes and had instruments in them, some normal like pianos and guitars and some rather strange ones that Harry supposed must be used by wizards. There was another devoted to Quidditch and Harry was almost tempted to stop and look but he heard voices in the next hallway so he hurried forward. His room was in this hallway. He walked slowly forward with the map in front of his face when something hit him with the force of a Bludger.


	6. Reunions

The Aftermath

Chapter Six  
Reunions

It was Hermione.

"Harry! You got here! Isn't this place wonderful!" she squealed in his ear.

"Hey there mate!" said Ron standing behind Hermione grinning broadly.

"Hi!" Harry said breathlessly (still trying to recover from Hermione's tackle).

"Hermione just got here yesterday, so she's still amazed with this place," Ron said with a small chuckle.

"What are _you_ talking about? You're the one who's still trying out all of your rooms special features over and over again!" Hermione said defensively.

"Oh yeah! Harry, you have got to see our rooms! You can make your pillows have pillow fights with you – " Ron said.

"And the bookshelves have tons of books – " Hermione began.

"And the bathrooms! Mate you have to see – "

"The view is so beautiful – "

"Okay, okay!" Harry said. "Can you lead me to my room then?"

"You're in room seven right?" asked Hermione.

"It's the one next to mine," said Ron. "Our rooms are connected."

"Ginny's room and mine are connected as well," Hermione said to Harry. "We're in rooms two and three, across from yours."

"We're in seven and eight, they're over here," Ron said walking down the hall talking all the while.

"Here we are," Ron said pointing towards two adjacent doors. The one on the left had a fancy gold "seven" plated on it and the one on the right had a silver eight.

"Go on, Harry! I'm dying to see it!" Hermione said.

Harry opened the door and he felt as though he had stepped into a forest because the wallpaper that decorated the room was of a forest scene and the animals in it moved around.

"Wow!" Hermione exclaimed. "Mine is meadow like with a bunch of little squirrels."

"Mine is water based," said Ron. "You'd think it was cool to feel like your underwater, but it's not half as fun when you've got to go to the bathroom and the first thing you see is a waterfall."

There were footsteps behind them and Ginny entered. "Hiya Harry!" she said looking around approvingly.

"What type of room have you got?" Harry asked her, gaping around his own.

"Mine is a bunch of air and clouds and stuff, and I'm excessively glad that the birds aren't real because it would be such a pain to clean bird droppings off my pillow every morning," she said.

They all laughed and Harry continued exploring his room. His bed was a four poster, but it was huge – about four times the size as his Hogwarts bed and about four times as high, so there was a small set of stairs by the bed so that climbing into it would be less of a jump. The bookshelves that covered a small portion of the walls really held more books than imaginable because, as Hermione demonstrated, if you spun them, they had different contents each time they came around. The lights were voice activated and the pillows self fluffed when ordered. The bed made itself and there was a Gobstones corner – a designated place to play the game. The bathroom was immense, obviously, but not as big as the bedroom. It had a Jacuzzi tub with a several showerheads floating in midair over it. And the walls of the bathroom were decorated as if the person inside was sitting under a willow tree, in private.

Harry was shown the others' rooms and they had similar features as well as specialized ones. Like for the girls, they had vanity mirrors and such.

There was a bell.

"That means a meal," Ron said to Harry. "In this case, dinner! Let's go, I'm starved."

Needless to say, the dining room was huge. The guard had left with the exception of Lupin and Tonks and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were there. They sat down to a luxurious meal at a table that could seat one hundred. Mr. Weasly knocked twice on the polished wooden table and it shrank to accommodate their numbers. The Weasley twins entered and they were at once bombarded with questions about "business" meaning their joke shop.

Dinner was a quick affair because it was so late in the evening and the younger attendants were shunned upstairs as the clock struck half after eleven. And they went to their bedroom corridor.

"Where's my stuff?" Harry asked as he opened his door and went in, followed by the other three.

At that moment, two little house elves came up carrying the trunk. They zoomed past the four of them and set Harry's trunk at the foot of his bed.

They came back and bowed low to Harry. "You must be Mr. Potter, sir," said the first, who seemed to be female. "An honor, sir," said the other, a male house elf.

"I'm Dolly, sir," squeaked the girl one, bowing again.

"Moochi at your service Mr. Potter," the other one said, bowing as well.

"We've had our orders from Dumbledore," Dolly said.

"A great friend of our masters'," Moochi said, nodding vigorously.

"And he is saying we is to make your stay as comfortable as possible, Mr. Potter, sir, as well as the rest of the young uns," Dolly continued.

"So anything we can be doing for any of you, sirs and misses," Moochi said.

"We is to be glad doing," Dolly finished.

"That's really not necessary, as I've told you before," started Hermione with a frown.

"Okay, if we need anything, we'll ask," Harry said quickly, cutting her off.

"You can go now," Ron said.

The two house elves bowed and left.

Hermione yawned. "Sorry Harry, but it is very late now. I like those two house elves. I think I'm making progress with them," she said retreating to her room. "Good night."

Ginny giggled quietly when Hermione had closed the door. "Yeah, progress," she said in a hushed voice.

"More like they listen politely as she talks at them," Ron said. "Then they scurry off to the nearest adult and say there's no need to give them clothes."

"Don't tell her that though," said Ginny. "I'm going to turn in too. Night all." And Ginny went into her room as well.

Harry and Ron turned to their rooms saying good night as they opened their doors and Ron promised to show Harry the Quidditch room the next morning.

Harry, once in his room, got changed and climbed (literally climbed) into his bed and took his glasses off and resisting the temptation to jump on the bed reminding himself that if he bounced off, it would hurt indeed, and said sleepily, "Lights off." The room went dark and he drifted off to sleep.


	7. Lights

The Aftermath

Chapter Seven  
Lights

Harry woke up early the next morning with early morning sunlight beaming through his window and birds chirping outside. Looking at the clock by the bathroom door, he saw that it was five in the morning, but he could see that either Dolly or Moochi had been in because the fire was crackling pleasantly in the fireplace (and yes, every room had a fireplace). He decided to get an early start, so he got dressed and prepared himself for some exploration.

He took out his map and said, "Full size." It then expanded and showed him all of the manor. Harry read the labels of rooms with interest. He saw his room was called "The Forest Room – GR7" on the map. There was also a Safari Room and Harry saw the Quidditch Room locatation. He looked on the other side of the manor and noticed something peculiar. The name of the east wing, was Muggle Wing whereas he knew that the wing he was in was the Wizard Wing. The north wing was named the Dual Wing and then the south was called the Entrance Wing. "Zoom format." He said to the map. It was decided; he would start his exploration at the Muggle Wing. Keeping his map out, he saw that instead of going all the way back around to the south or front end of the manor, he could take a short cut through the Dual Wing because he was located in the northwest part of the manor. He just had to make a left when he reached the hall after the hall that led to the center of the manor (where the kitchen, dining, and party areas were located).

He was halfway through the Dual Wing. He hadn't stopped to look around much so he had made good time when he reached a hallway turning his back on it so he could catch the hall's light, he noticed that on the map it was the Central Hall and it seemed to be the corridor that bisected the house and all the hallways branched off of it into the other parts of the house. He also noticed he took a wrong turn somewhere and that he was supposed to go . . . into the floor?

"That's off," he said aloud. And then all the lights turned off.

Startled, Harry groped around in the dark. His hand struck a doorknob and he entered. He was pretty sure he had entered a bedroom. On the map it had been labeled "Bethy's Room," but from what Harry had heard last night, the house wasn't normally inhabited – it was treated more like a summer home. Harry backed into the room, stumbling, and then he hit someone.

"Lights on," said a familiar girl's voice.

"Sorry about that, I di-" Harry looked around at the person he had knocked over and it was none other than Liz Cain and she was sitting on her bottom rubbing her side (apparently what she had fallen on). Now she had curls in her hair and it was in a half moon hairstyle (half up, half down). She was wearing her pajamas – fleece bottoms that were dark blue and covered in pale blue crescent moons and stars and a large fleece almost robe looking pajama top that overshot her wrists by several inches so that you could only see the tips of her fingers poking out from the sleeves.

Her mouth was open in surprise. "What are you doing here?" she asked incredulously.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he asked in the same tone.

"I live here! What's your excuse?" she answered.

This threw Harry off quite a bit. "What?"

"Well, I don't _live_ here, but I own the house," she said standing up and brushing herself off.

Harry stared at her.

"I'm waiting," she said in clear annoyance.

"Dumbledore – he – I was – how the?" Harry gaped at her again.

"Oh, he said there would be others," she said, her expression clearing, "I just didn't know it would be _you_."

"Wait, so you're a witch? And you know Dumbledore?" Harry asked her, still dumbfounded.

"Yeah, of course I'm a witch – you _have_ seen the house, right?"

"But, you have a muggle uncle – " Harry began.

"Tch! So do you!" she retorted.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked weakly.

"I was waiting to see whether or not you knew me or not," she said smiling.

"Huh?"

"I go to Hogwarts too, but I'm Ginny's age, Gryffindor," she said.

"Really?"

"Yup," she said.

She pointed at the map in Harry's hand. "Where are you trying to go?" she asked him.

"Muggle Wing," he said.

"Curious, hm?" she said cheerily. "You were kind of using the map wrong. You can't get into the Muggle Wing through any of the first floor halls or doors. You have to go down the basement stairs and the Tunnel Hall and up into the east side of the manor, not to mention how much of the rooms of that breed are located underground."

"There's more than one floor here?" Harry said. "How long did it take to build?"

Liz shrugged. "Give me the map." Harry handed it over. "Underground floor please." The current mappings disappeared and revealed a different set of rooms and halls. "Second floor. Third floor. Roof." Each time she said something new a new map appeared.

"And I thought it was difficult before," Harry said his eyes wide open as he looked at the map.

Liz looked at him sympathetically. "This might help you out. Three dimensional view." The map reverted to a side view of the house and its interior. "In color." Colors and furniture appeared in the rooms. "There you go. Just press which places you want to go through. Oh, you can also do this. Locations!" she ordered the map and it split into four views. One with color and furniture shown, one with the floor mapping with a "you are here" dot, one with a three dimensional view with a "you are here" dot, and the last showed the route to, "The Electronics Room," said Liz. "I think you'll find that fun."

Harry nodded, at a loss for words. Still unsure of what to do, he just stared.

"What?" she asked, looking a little uncomfortable.

"It's just . . . " Harry couldn't find the right words. He realized he was staring so he looked around. It was then that he noticed her bedroom.

Of course, it was huge. Bigger than all the guestrooms put together.

"Blimey, does your room take up the whole Dual Wing?" he asked her.

She laughed. "No, but my room and my parents room do take up almost half of it. Would you like a tour?"

"Sure," he said.

Her walls were decorated like the guest rooms; only her walls were able to incorporate all the ecosystems shown. Her ceiling was a clear blue sky with big, fluffy clouds that actually moved. Her ceiling fan was painted like the sun so it seemed that when the fan panels moved, the sun's rays were revolving.

Her bed was a king, as high as Harry's and covered with a white, gauzy mosquito net that made the bed look like it was a tent, but see through. All of her blankets were made of down, as were her pillows. Harry was inclined to wonder why when Liz went to sleep, she didn't sink down into the feathers and out of sight.

Not far away was her closet. It was the sort of closet of every girl's dreams (not that Harry would know – that's just what it looked like). The door was like that of revolving doors you see in front of Muggle corporate buildings, except made of mirrors. Once inside, it was about as big as the Harry's guest room and circular. All of the clothes racks on the walls moved along so that the chooser of the clothes didn't have to. The accessories section was color coded and located on a set of racks that worked like conveyor belts. The shoes were on the perimeter of the room and that rotated around like a conveyor belt as well. Then, there were two other doors branching from the closet.

"I think you'll enjoy this," she said, beckoning him into the first door.

Curious, Harry stepped forward. The moment he did the lights came on. There were several lights, and each individual one came one at a time. With each brightening light, Harry's eyes grew wider and his jaw dropped a little lower. It was Liz's own little Quidditch room. Each light in the room was like a spotlight, and each shone on a different piece of Quidditch equiptment. There were gloves, and robes, and care taking kits, and there were books, and posters, and several copies of Quidditch Players' Magazine. There were several autographed quaffles, snitches, bludgers, and beaters' clubs.

"Your parents must be rich as sin!" Harry said in an awed tone.

Liz shifted uncomfortably. "Well, you've already seen some of the stuff that they've patented."

"Like what?" Harry asked. Everything he had seen so far looked pretty much like money and magic.

"Well, in the main closet for example," she said to him. "Any of those special features look familiar?"

"Er . . . "

"That's basically some of the stuff that they're paid to produce," Liz said, as if it were that simple.

"Er . . . right," Harry said, even though he still had no clue.

They exited the closet. As they did, he wondered what was in the other door in the closet. He was about to ask when Liz spoke to him again.

"Oh, and here's my desk," she said.

"Where, what desk?" Harry asked.

She only grinned at him slyly and revolved one of the shelves. This one, unlike the others, opened like a door.

"Well, go on!" Liz said, pointing him in.

And with that he entered the room. He felt as though he had stepped into the Muggle world and entered the office of a CEO of a successful corporate company. Except, it had definite signs that a fifteen-year-old girl owned it, such as the mess on the desk, the soda bottles in the trash can, and the CD and DVD cases strewn all over the floor. There were yet more books lining the shelves, but things that looked like speakers lined other places, and what looked like mini blue fires set into little squares in the walls. An entire wall showed pictures – moving pictures and the picture changed every few seconds.

"Watch this," she said. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the wall. Suddenly, the wall turned black, and there, showing on the wall, was a showing of an episode of Coupling.

"Whoa! How does that work?" Harry asked her.

"It kind of works like a projected image," Liz said. "But with magic, it's made simple. Or more difficult – whichever way you look at it. Through magic, the telly signal is intercepted and sent here, without interfering with normal broadcasting, and the images appear on the wall and the sound comes through those special speakers along there," she pointed to the speaker things on the walls. "Of course, they needed to be special speakers, and they had to be speakers because we haven't developed a way of projecting sound from thin air. It can be done with regular voices, but seeing as how this is satellite stuff, well, it's different."

"What?"

"Sorry mate, that's the simplest form I can put it in," Liz said, shrugging. Then she brightened again. "Over here!" she said, rushing to her desk. She tapped the surface with her wand and things quickly moved upon their own accord out of their way as a floating screen appeared over the desk. It reminded Harry a bit like holograms, but still, the images weren't projected from anywhere. It also reminded Harry of something else . . . a computer screen.

"Is that . . . . ?" he began.

"Yes, it is," Liz answered. "Complete with internet access (e-mailing and the like) as well as games and music players. This sound can be sent into midair, except for internet sounds (those go through the special speakers)." She shut off the re run of Coupling (as Jeff was saying "You don't want to know about the Giggle Loop . . . ") and turned on the music. The label that showed on the screen told Harry the artist was Mest and the song was Misunderstood.

Much to Harry's amusement, Liz started jumping up and down pretending to play a guitar. He laughed at how silly she looked, in her baggy pajamas, with her hair flying, rocking out. With a funny leap in his stomach, he noticed that this image didn't bother him a bit. He actually quite liked it. She ended up panting and laughing as she did the finishing two chords.

"Interesting," Harry said, still laughing.

"I'm sorry, I just really like the song," she stopped suddenly. "I hope I didn't set it on household mode . . . if I did I probably woke everybody up!"

"What do you mean?"

"I can make the stuff play through every room in the house . . . " she said distractedly as she checked the computer. "Oh no, I did," she said putting her hand to her mouth and starting to laugh again. Harry himself was starting to chuckle.

"It would be a rather loud wake up call, but they probably didn't mind so much," he said while thinking 'What a lie, but Fred and George probably would congratulate her for it."

"Who else is here?" Liz asked him.

"Uh . . . Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Ginny. Oh and Fred and George Weasley," Harry answered.

"Have Fred, George, and Ron seen the Quidditch Rooms yet?" said Liz.

"Yeah . . . wait, room**s**? As in plural?" Harry looked at her.

"Let me guess, they haven't explored the other floors yet have they?" Liz shook her head. "Do you think they'd like to see them?"

"Sure!" Harry said excitedly.

"Ok, let's go," she said, and she made for the door. She stopped.

"What?" Harry said.

"I haven't showed you the best part!" Liz said running to the center of the room next to Harry under the ceiling fan/light.

She reached up, holding out her hand expectedly and a chain holding a golden sun shape and a silver moon shape on it. She pulled it and the room went dark. The wallpapers changed to look as though they were night. He looked up and saw that the ceiling had reverted to night mode, the silver stars and moons gleaming palely in the dark. She pulled another chain that had magically appeared that had a little music note ornament on it and suddenly, there were sound effects. Gentle cricket chirping and soft owl hoots met Harry's ears, as did a song . . . Come Away With Me by Norah Jones.

Harry found himself standing rather close to Liz. He looked down at her (she was about five inches shorter than he was) and noticed her looking up at the moon/fan. She looked up at him and he smiled. She smiled back, fleetingly, before suddenly reaching up and pulling the chain again. The room became dazzlingly bright again. Bird chirping replaced the crickets and Westlife's World of Our Own replaced Come Away With Me.

"I gotta go to the bathroom, go ahead and I'll meet you by the guest rooms," and she positively fled to the other side of the room leaving Harry feeling rather abandoned and highly confused.


	8. A Typical Summer Morning?

The Aftermath

Chapter Eight  
A Typical Summer Morning?

Harry stood there a few moments longer. Long enough to hear the shower start in the bathroom. Wondering whether he did something wrong, Harry left Liz's room to go back to the guest rooms and talk to the others as well as invite them on the tour. Following the map Harry found his way back to the guest rooms where he found the occupants in a panic.

"What was that?" Ron asked apparently unaware of his severe case of bed head.

Ginny appeared rubbing her eyes, "Some stupid joke of an alarm! Six o' clock in the morning on a vacation morning mind you!"

"You guys heard that too?" asked Hermione yawning. "Was it that loud?"

"It was in every single stupid room," Fred said, appearing out of the other end of the curved hallway.

"All over the house more like," said George.

Ron turned and saw Harry. "Mornin' Harry. You're dressed?"

"You didn't wake us all up did you?" Hermione asked reproachfully.

"No, it wasn't me," Harry said, putting his hands up. "I don't know how to work that thing. Only she knows how, and maybe her parents, as she does live here . . . or owns this place."

"Who?" Ginny, who looked half asleep, said.

"What do you mean Harry?" Ron said scratching his head and yawning.

"Harry?" George started.

"Where?" Fred said looking around.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron. "If you hadn't been so interested in your pudding at dinner last night, you would have heard your mum and dad talking about being awake to welcome Elizabeth because she would be arriving three in the morning."

"I can't help being hungry, or being interested in pudding!" Ron said.

Hermione turned to Harry. "That is her name right?"

"Yeah," Harry answered her. "But don't you know everything else?"

"I didn't have the opportunity to ask Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to elaborate," Hermione said.

"Well, yeah, her full name's Elizabeth Cain," Harry said and before he could go any further Ginny jerked awake and said,

"Elizabeth _Cain_? The one who goes to Hogwarts? And is in Gryffindor and is practically the most popular girl in my year?" she said in an increasing volume.

"Wait, her?" Hermione said looking surprised.

"Wait, who?" Ron inquired.

"Look, Harry's here!" Fred said.

"Hiya Harry!" George said.

Then everybody looked at Harry.

"There's not much to say really," he said shifting from side to side. "I got up to do some exploring and I was going over to the east wing when I accidentally turned all the lights off – " at this point the lights turned off. "Quit it!" Harry said exasperatedly. "Lights on!" was the angry order and he then continued in full light saying, "Then I stumbled into a room and it happened to be her bedroom – "

Ron started to chuckle. "You were in her bedroom, mate?" At this point Fred and George (who were finally up to speed) started to bust out laughing as well. "Moving a bit fast there aren't you? I mean, you hadn't even met her!"

"Hey," Harry said. "How do _you_ know that I haven't met her before? Because I did. She just moved into my neighborhood." Harry could tell they were about to ask question, so he quickly said, "But that doesn't matter. In any case, _this_ meeting was an accident. She got the lights back on and explained a few things like the fact I was using the map wrong. She showed me her office thing and in there she had this computer like thing and used it to play the song which she said she accidentally played throughout the house."

"A computer?" Hermione asked dumbfounded.

Fred, George, and Ron looked stumped. "What the bloody hell is a com poo ter?" Ron asked.

"It's a Muggle electronic device that allows them to write, but not by hand, play games, send messages, do research, store data, play music, and other such things," Hermione explained. "I have a few at home and I must say that I rather miss them when we have to do our essays. But how does it work?" she asked Harry. "There isn't electricity around here is there? And how did she play it through the house without using speakers? Is the speaker system _in_ the walls or something?" Most of this made no sense to the other three, but even though Harry understood the questions, he wasn't able to answer them.

"She explained a few things to me, but I didn't think to ask any of those questions," Harry told Hermione. "But you can ask her yourself because she invited all of us on a tour of the entire house."

"Forget it mate, this place is too big," cried George.

Fred shook his head, "You can make the tour without us, because we've got stuff to do!"

"Yeah, reckon we should probably leave for work soon. I told you we shouldn't have made opening hour at eight!" George said and then Disapparated along with Fred.

"So, Harry, what do you think of her?" Ginny asked.

"She's cool, but don't you know her?" Harry said to her. "I thought she was in your year?"

Ginny shrugged. "She is, but I don't really knows her all that well. I sit next to her in Potions and that's always fun, but I'm just one of her casual friends. We say hi to each other whenever we see one another, but other than that, nothing really. She's still popular because she's rich and pretty, but she doesn't have many close friends."

Harry was slightly taken aback by this information. "Why?"

"Well, most of the people I talk to think it's because she's conceited."

"No, that doesn't seem right," Harry said frowning. "There's another thing I don't get – why didn't I recognize her when I saw her at first? She had to _tell_ me that she went to Hogwarts."

"Well, she wasn't at Hogwarts last year, or at least not the last half of the year," Ginny said.

"Why?"

"People said something about her going abroad, but really, I don't know."

Hermione appeared again after having ducked into her room holding her map. "You said she told you that there's another way to read this thing?"

Harry laughed. "There are quite a few of them!" He then proceeded in showing her various functions of the map.

They, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were in Harry's room for about fifteen minutes when they heard a knock on the door. Harry jumped up to answer it and found Liz standing there, hands behind her back and beaming. Again, he scarcely recognized her. Her red streaks were gone and her hair was now a dark almost black brown once more, up in a bun with a few curled strands escaping the clutch of the decorative pins that crossed each other in an x to keep the bun up. She was wearing a gray and navy blue layered tee shirt and a pair of white cargo pants.

"Hello all!" she said brightly, peering into the room, waving at the others standing behind Harry. "Everybody ready for breakfast? Mrs. Weasley, she's your mum isn't she?" she directed at Ginny and Ron, " – she's making pancakes! And it smells wonderful! We can go to the main dining hall now if you like."

"Sure," Harry said. The rest nodded.

"Good morning, Bethy, dear," Mrs. Weasley said when they entered the dining room with Liz in the lead. "How are you feeling? I expect you're tired, as we brought you here rather late last night," she said clicking her tongue.

"I'm quite all right," Liz said laughing. "Besides, I've always found midnight flights invigorating."

Tonks, who was there looking bleary eyed, laughed quietly and returned to her doze.

_Two flights to and from Little Whinging would do that to a person_, Harry thought to himself and at the same time wondering why they had taken two flights instead of one.

"What about you Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asked him. "Sleep well?" There was something in her voice that hinted that she was concerned with something other than the amount of sleep he had. He had a sneaking suspicion she was worried whether his sleep, or rather dreams had been disturbed in any way.

"Er . . . yeah, fine," he said. "I got up really early this morning though. A little too excited about this place. It's great by the way." Harry stole a glance from Liz, who was eyeing the nearly finished pancakes with particular interest.

"I'm very glad you think so," Mrs. Weasley said happily.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Liz said.

"Yes, dear?"

"Why did we have to take two flights?" Liz said. "You could've taken me and Harry at the same time.

"Oh, we had to settle things with your uncle first," Mrs. Weasley said. "You were asleep when we were talking, so you wouldn't remember it."

"Oh, that makes sense. I suppose you waited until my birthday party was over?"

"Yes, although I wish we could have arrived earlier because we got some presents for you."

"Really?"

"Yes, we put them in your room."

"Awesome! Thank you!"

Breakfast was a cheery affair. Mad Eye Moody dropped in as did Kingsley and a few other witches and wizards Harry hardly recognized. Tonks left shortly but not before making the company laugh at least five times. Soon, all of the adults had gone about their business, most of them headed for the other side of London and to the Ministry.

Harry finished his breakfast quickly and sat at the table reading the Daily Prophet. He read an article about the trial about to be held for the Death Eaters found in June.

"I'm still hungry," Ron said. "Mum didn't leave anymore pancakes!"

"Ron!" Hermione and Ginny both scolded.

"You must have had at least six!"

"Isn't that enough?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Did you see those things? They were only what, three inches in diameter?"

"Try five."

Their squabble was interrupted by the clanking of pans and bowls. Harry looked up from the newspaper to see Liz at the stove.

"I can make a few more if you like," she said cheerily getting out a matching mixing bowl and spoon. "To tell you the truth, I'm still rather hungry myself."

It turned out that the matching bowl and spoon made a self-stirring mixing set. All Liz had to do was poor stuff in. The spatula also flipped the pancakes of its own accord. In no time, there was another platter of pancakes on the table, and all partook of them.

"Is everything in this house like that?" Harry asked her.

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know what? I reckon it pretty much is!" and she sounded as surprised as the rest of them looked. "Would you guys like the tour? It may take a while."

And so, after they helped clean up the kitchen, the five of them went off to explore the mansion.


	9. A Tour

**The Aftermath  
**

Chapter Nine  
A Tour

"How in the world is this place so damn clean?" Ginny asked.

The party was sitting in a circular room that had a long couch lining the circumference of the room and several big armchairs in the middle. In the exact center of the room was a completely circle sofa, where Liz was sitting. The rest of them were lying down on different seats, burnt out.

"Well, there's Moochi and Dolly," Liz began.

"You make them clean this whole house!?" Hermione said with clear disapproval.

Liz simply smiled and continued, "But Mum made sure that a lot of the rooms were self dusting." She stopped suddenly, staring blankly off into space. She paused a moment, then said, "You guys can rest here a bit. I suspect you're tired. I'm going to check what the grown ups are doing." She tapped the circular sofa she was sitting on with her wand. It disappeared, but in its place was a spotlight. She stepped into it and suddenly, she wasn't there anymore, but the sofa was back. They all sat up and called her name. She dropped onto the sofa, apparently from nowhere. "What?" she said, looking confused.

"How in the - ?" Ron began, but couldn't finish.

"Oh," she understood, and looked somewhat distracted. "My parents invented this little household thing. It's like Apparating, only it only goes inside of houses and can only go where there's another device just like it. There's one in about a third of the rooms here." More blank looks. "Well . . . it's kind of like teleportation, if you know what that is." Even more skeptical stares. "All right, I'll show you." She tapped the sofa again and shooed them all into the spotlight. Suddenly, it seemed as if all of them were made up of floating lights instead of flesh and blood.

"Beth's room!" called Liz's echoing voice. And suddenly, Harry recognized that they had dropped into the corner of her room.

"And if you still don't get it, we can watch Star Trek if you want," she said simply.

"Star Trek?"

"Never mind," Liz said with a sigh.

Ginny was standing staring at the sofa. "It's kind of like . . . traveling by floo and portkey mixed together."

Liz seemed relieved that someone finally had the idea (someone other than Hermione of course). "Yeah, that's it."

Hermione was looking around. "So this is your room?" She was in the center of the room and was turning endless circles. "It's gorgeous!"

Liz blushed, looking uncomfortable. "Um, sure, but I guess I'm not the one to judge . . ."

Ginny looked around as well, and her jaw dropped. "It's wonderful! Ron, have you seen this room?"

"Yeah . . ." he said hesitantly.

Harry looked at him. "What?"

"Well," Ron glanced at Liz uncomfortably. "No offense or anything, but it's kind of . . . girly."

Harry laughed. "It's not all girly. You should see all of it – she has her own Quidditch room!"

Liz giggled as well. "That's true. But sometimes I do get tired of this bedroom theme. That's why I have back ups."

Nobody bothered to ask her about them because they sensed she was getting a little tired of explaining things.

"Well," Ron said with a small hint of bitterness in his voice, "Your parents must be loaded."

Harry knew that Ron was sensitive about his family's financial status, but Harry saw by the way Liz's eyes flashed that the matter of her parents was also a touchy subject. She looked confused, as if she half wanted to say something comforting and half wanted to make a snide remark.

Apparently, she compromised by shrugging. "Does it matter?" she asked. "It's not like I'd be any less happy with them if they weren't, as long as they were with me." Her voice faded. "I'm kind of tired, can the rest of the tour wait? Thanks, I'll see you guys at dinner." She then practically shoved them out of the door. The lock clicked once they were all safely outside.

Ron shrugged too and walked away. Hermione hurried after him.

Ginny gazed at the door. "What was that about?"

"What?" Harry asked, hoping she would just walk away. He didn't want to vocalize his suspicions, because they were after all, only suspicions.

"I dunno," Ginny said quietly. "She acted kind of weird. Do you know why?"

_Well_, Harry thought, _if I'm going to answer, I'm not going to do it right outside her door_. He started to walk slowly away, and Ginny followed suit.

"Well?" she asked.

Harry stopped at the end of the hallway. "Have you ever seen her parents around?"

"Oh," Ginny said. "What happened?"

"I don't know, maybe nothing," he answered truthfully. He turned and looked at the door. "For all I know they could just be on vacation so she spent vacation with her uncle . . . but there are things that make me think it's more than that." He stopped.

Ginny looked at him a moment, realized that he was done talking, and walked away quietly leaving him to his own musings.

Harry stared at that door for what seemed to him like hours. He slowly turned away and headed back to his room.

"Hey Harry!" Ron said to Harry when they met in the hallway of the guest rooms. "What took you?"

"Nothing," Harry said. Then he realized something. He hadn't seen Percy around. "Hey, Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Did Percy ever apologize?"

Ron looked up at him surprised. "Blimey, I thought you knew! I didn't tell you?"

"Obviously not."

"Oh, okay then. Yeah, he did apologize. It was kind of uncomfortable though. He just arrived at the house right when we came back from the school train. He came up to us all red and said 'Sorry I didn't listen to you' all quiet and stuff. Then Dad said he wasn't totally mad about that and that it was more that he didn't trust us, or you, or Dumbledore, but as long as Percy was sorry about that, it was forgiven. Then Perce said he was and then everybody just went kind of quiet. I swear you could hear crickets chirping! Then Mum asked him in for a cup of tea and that was that."

"Is he in the Order?"

"Nah, he was too embarrassed to even mention it and I don't think they trust him enough to let him," Ron answered him. "He still lives in his flat, but he still comes over to the house for family dinners every Sunday. That's where I'll be tomorrow – home."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Ron said grinning. "I'm really glad you brought it up Harry! Because I would have forgotten to tell you you're coming too!"

"Great!" Harry stopped. "Kind of sad though, us leaving Liz here all alone with no one her own age."

"Yeah, it would be," Ron said, nodding. "But it's not a problem, because Mum already invited her. She's nice enough; still don't know her all that well. I know where I've seen her before though. We bumped into each other in a corridor I think. I remember because I shattered my bottle of vanishing ink all over her books. Took us forever to find them. I can't believe I didn't recognize her at once though."

_Wait till dinner_, you'll be in for a surprise, Harry thought to himself. He wondered what she'd look like then. Maybe in another one of those flower dresses, or maybe even leather, maybe her hair would be dyed black and spiked. Harry smiled. She'd still be pretty, and she'd still be Liz. His heart beat a little harder and he felt his face turn red. And for the life of him he couldn't tell why.


	10. A Shoulder to Cry On

**The Aftermath**

Chapter Thirteen  
A Shoulder to Cry On

Harry headed down for dinner two days later. He had an odd expectant feeling like something was going to happen, but he couldn't think of what. Sprinting down the many hallways, Harry began to smell the scent of dinner wafting in from the kitchen. He reached the hallway of the dining room in time to see Liz walk slowly into the room with a book in her hand and biting her thumb. (A/N: I've decided that Liz so far has practically no depth at all. You hardly know anything about her really, so I've decided to give her some little pet peeves/habits, one of them being biting her thumb when worried or, like at this particular moment, held in suspense). Harry watched as she walked steadily towards the door . . . and into the door. It was all Harry could do to keep from laughing out loud.

"Woops!" she said, closing the book quickly and opening the door.

The look on her face reminded him of the look on Percy's face when he had seen him at the Weasley's Sunday dinner, only her look was more of a 'can't believe I just did that-laughing at oneself' surprise, and his was a 'what do I say now?' sort of surprise.

"Harry!" he had said, offering his hand, though still looking uncomfortable.

Harry shook his hand reluctantly. "Percy."

Percy shifted uncomfortably. "Look Harry, I'm really sorry about . . . you know . . . "

"About what? Not believing that I wasn't some show off psycho? Not trusting what I told Dumbledore, or not trusting Dumbledore himself? And not trusting me? Yeah, and that moment in Dumbledore's office last year when the Minister came to personally _expel_ _me_ was really clever. Classic. Hell, Percy! You'd known me for four years and you honestly found a way to believe what Fudge said about me?" Harry said angrily.

Percy looked confused, as if he had just realized that he had four years of evidence that contrasted Fudge's previous view of "the boy who lived". He looked at Harry, showing genuine signs of regret. "Harry, there really isn't anything I can say but that I'm sorry."

Harry glared at him for another moment. The he sighed. "I can't pretend I never saw the way you scorned all of us for believing that Voldemort really returned. But I guess I can forgive you. A little."

"Thanks, Harry, really it - "

"Yeah, whatever, I'm hungry," Harry said, going out into the yard and taking his place between Ron and Hermione. Ginny was laughing with Liz across the table, and Bill and Charlie were discussing business strategies with Fred and George. Percy sat down on the other side of the table with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley, though friendly, was not as warm as Mrs. Weasley as Percy began to talk with them.

Harry shook himself out of the memory as his stomach grumbled.

He went into the dining room.

The room was fuller than it had been for most of Harry's stay, except for his birthday celebration, which had been the day before. And the people looked a whole lot less festive, except for the younger ones. Harry could see Tonks speaking with Molly Weasley in hushed tones as Mrs. Weasley cooked dinner. In the corner, Moody, Lupin, and Mr. Weasley were shaking their heads and looking nervously at the dinner table. More Order members were milling about looking uncomfortable and sad. Meanwhile, the party sitting down at the table were a much more merry.

They were laughing at some joke Ron had made as Harry sat down.

"What's up with all of them?" Harry said, jerking his head towards the older group.

"I don't know, but it doesn't seem as if we could go up and ask them," Ron answered casting his eyes over the room.

"I wonder what we're having for dinner," Hermione said.

Ginny nodded, "I'm starved!"

Liz bounced up to the stove and Tonks quickly walked away. "Yay! Spaghetti and meatballs, garlic bread, baked ziti, wow! Italian food, my favorite!" she gave Mrs. Weasley a quick hug and proceeded in checking on the ziti. (A/N: ziti is pasta by the way).

In a few minutes, Mrs. Weasley announced that dinner was ready and they all sat down to eat and conversation started.

"I've always wanted to take a trip to Italy," said Hermione. "Have you ever been there, Liz?"

"Yup," Liz said proceeding in stuffing her mouth with a forkful of pasta and proceeding with her mouth full. "Wiff my Mum and Dad," she swallowed."They were on a business trip so I just wandered on my own for those two weeks." She stuffed another forkful of pasta into her mouth.

"What is it exactly that they do? It must be exciting, if it involves traveling to the Mediterranean!" Hermione said.

Liz paused and for some reason glanced at the head of the table where all the members of the Order were sitting. The glance was so subtle and quick that Harry almost didn't notice. None of the adults noticed what they were talking about either.

"Well," she said putting a napkin to her mouth while she chewed. "They work for the government. Actually, my mum works for the American Magic Division, AMD, and Dad works for the Ministry, Department of Mysteries. Mum gets paid a lot by the American government for special spell patents."

"Spell patents? Isn't that - ?" Hermione began.

"Yeah, they invent spells for a living," Liz said laughing. "I know it sounds a bit hokey, but it is a living. They find ways to integrate muggle technology and magic."

"But wait," Ginny said, "Doesn't that break the law with Experimental Charms or something, or do they not have it over the Atlantic?"

"Of course they do, but Mum gets grants and licenses that make it all legal," Liz said. "But we don't depend solely on that income. Dad does research for the Ministry as well."

"What type?" Ron asked. Harry knew that each of them was intrigued. They had all seen what things were studied in the Department of Mysteries.

"The physics, I guess you could call it, of magic," she said shrugging. She continued when she saw their skeptical looks. "Well, he just studies how magic works. He published several books on his theory that there is a force that drives magic, like gravity drives the rotation of the earth. Kind of . . . kind of like a gas that floats in the air, like oxygen.Dad's theory involves magic lying dormant in the bodies of wizards until they choose to release it. Almost like a physical substance . . . but not quite. It's all very long and complicated but that's one of the reasons why his books were and continue to remain popular among the highest of wizard scholars."

Suddenly, Lupin stood up. "I'm full now," he said nodding to Molly, "It was a great dinner, Molly, thanks!" Then he walked down the Harry's end of the table and tapped Liz on the shoulder saying to her that he needed to talk to her once she was finished eating.

Harry wondered what that could be about but didn't have time to speculate anymore because Fred and George came back from work with "gifts" for them. Harry didn't think about it until he was on his way back from the bathroom and on his way to his room when he saw Liz go into one of the many libraries and heard Lupin's voice.

"Liz, I'm not exactly sure how to say this," Harry heard him say with a tone of regret. Harry inched closer to the open door.

"Have you found my parents?" Liz asked him. There was a slight quaver in her voice.

"Yes, but . . ."

"But what?" she asked, her voice raised a little.

"But . . . not intact. I'm sorry Liz, but we found your father's body dead in Hathaway Mansion and most of the house demolished." His voice was full of sympathy as he spoke softly.

Silence. Then, "My mother, what about my mother?" the voice was genuinely trembling now.

"We couldn't find her remains but it's most probable that she's dead as well, I'm so sorry."

"No body? Then there's still hope! She could still be alive, all you have to do is find her!" her voice was now hysterical.

Lupin heaved a sigh. "No Liz, she's gone."

That was when Harry heard sobs. "No! No, no, no!"

Harry couldn't take it anymore. He slipped off quietly to his room. He sat on his bed, thinking over what he had heard. He contemplated upon what was worse: having your parents die and you live and without ever knowing them, or having them die and you live knowing what you were missing.

There was a knock on the door. Harry opened it to find Lupin standing there looking as if he'd aged twenty years in one moment.

"I need to talk to you, Harry," he said simply.

"Yeah, about what?"

"You know the vision you had earlier this summer?"

A light bulb went off in Harry's head. Did his vision have anything to do with what he had just overheard? Harry just nodded.

"It turns out that the events in it were true. It took us a while to break through security, but in the end we found the location of it and also the body of Thomas Cain, dead, and his wife, Katherine Cain is most likely dead as well."

Harry was only half listening. He could see it all in his head, voices echoing in his mind as well.

"_Run, do you hear? Run, and I don't want you to look back!"_

"_Dad, I'm scared!"_

"_Honey, we've been over this before! You know where to go. If we can, we'll –"_

"_Kate, there's no time for that, just go!"_

Harry saw the door open once again, and the man fall to the ground.

"_YOU BASTARD!" the woman screamed . . ._

Harry was broken out of his reverie by a twinge in his stomach at the realization that those people he had seen, the man who died, the woman who had attacked Voldemort, they were Liz's parents.

"Harry? Harry, are you all right?" Lupin said.

"Yeah, um, I just kind of . . . well, I'm kind of tired," Harry stuttered.

Lupin got the hint. "Okay, I'll leave you here then. 'Night."

He left, and Harry waited to be certain Lupin was out of the hallway before jolting up and heading towards the Dual Wing to Liz's room.

Harry screeched to a stop at her door. He paused, and then decided to just barge in. He opened the door slowly.

Liz wasn't there. He stood there in the doorway confused until he heard strains of sound coming from the computer room. He makes his way slowly there and opens the door. And there was Liz, with the waterworks flowing. She saw Harry and quickly brought both hands to her eyes, though they both knew that wouldn't help.

"Doesn't anybody knock these days?" her voice proved that her nose was stuffing up and she gave a great sniff.

She was sitting on the floor, apparently watching what looked like an old home movie. Harry sat next to her. "You okay?"

She looked at him half angrily. "Obviously, I'm not. And I don't want to tell you about it, I don't want to tell anyone!"

"Would it help if I told you I already know?"

She stared at him, her eyes boring into his. "You shouldn't eavesdrop."

Harry was surprised. "Anyone will tell that I always know things that I'm not supposed to and it's usually an accident."

She turned away, looking again at the movie.

"But if you want to be alone, I understand," Harry said quietly thinking of how he felt when Sirius had died.

"No, you don't understand!" she said, starting to sob again. As much as Harry didn't like seeing her cry, he had respect for the way she did it. It wasn't dignified – no misty movie star tears. She cried like a real person – nose wrinkled, lips trembling, cheeks drenched, and sniffling. It didn't make her unattractive to Harry; it made her more human.

"Maybe you do," she said. "I wouldn't know, but have you ever had someone close to you, someone you looked up to, someone who guided you and loved you, die? And don't say your parents, because we both know that it isn't the same thing."

"Yeah actually," Harry said. "My godfather, Sirius Black."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, meaning it. It was amazing how she could find sympathy for Harry when most people would be feeling sorry for themselves. She came very close to being quieted as she sat thinking about what it must have been like for Harry before she said, "Well, take that pain and double it and that's how I feel." She bit her thumb and her eyes screwed up from the effort to keep fresh tears from spilling. Needless to say she failed.

She sat there shaking from the force of her silent spasms of grief. "Come here," Harry said softly, wrapping his arm around her, not quite knowing what compelled him to do it, but she buried her face into his shoulder and cried.

After what seemed like hours she stopped and looked up. Reaching behind her she grabbed a box of Kleenex and wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She turned the volume up on the current home movie.

"This was my 13th birthday party," she said to Harry.

There was mini-Liz, sitting at the table with an Anchor Blue t-shirt on and a pair of Dickie khaki cargos watching her birthday entertainment. The camera panned over to a man onstage who seemed to share the same eyes and nose as Liz.

"Thirteen years ago today, I went through the most pivotal, life changing, traumatizing – " he smiled and the audience tittered, "most wonderful experience of my life; watching the birth of my baby girl, my little Lizbeth. This one's for you, sweetie." Mr. Cain (that's who he had to be) winked and began to sing "Isn't She Lovely."

"That's Stevie Wonder," Liz interrupted, her voice uncharacteristically hollow. "Oldie, but a goody."

Harry watched as a woman, who had Liz's hair and lips, took mini-Liz's hand and dragged her up onstage. They then sang a little duet.

"Me and Emily," Liz said simply, shifting her head a little on Harry's shoulder (which was drenched). Her voice was still emotionless. "A Rachel Proctor song. We changed the words so that it fit with us singing it as a mother/daughter solo, and that it didn't make Dad look like a deadbeat. Same tune though."

A single tear rolled down her cheek and onto Harry's knee. He still had his arm around her and her head was leaning on his shoulder.

"Your family into music?" Harry wasn't sure whether to talk about them in present of past tense, or what to say really about this whole thing.

"Yeah, I bet if they were Muggles the whole lot could go into musical theatre," Liz said. "Have I ever said that my dad was Muggle-born?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well, he was, and he told me that before he got accepted to Hogwarts, he dreamed of being a famous football champion," at this she half smiled.

"Then he wanted to be a Quidditch player, not much of a difference really," she said, still staring at the screen.

"Mum didn't go to Hogwarts. She was American, and she went to a school of witchcraft and wizardry that often had talent shows and school productions and when she was younger, she was featured in famous singer's songs whenever a female vocalist was wanted."

"Wow," Harry said. "It's nice that you know so much about them."

"Do you know anything about yours? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Liz said to him.

"No, it's fine," he said. "I know that my Mum was muggle born and when she got accepted to Hogwarts her parents were very proud of the fact they had a witch in the family. My dad was Seeker on the Gryffindor quidditch team and then captain as well. He was really cocky in school, but he was bright and talented and totally in love with my mum, who was much more mature than him, though that's not saying much because he was such a troublemaker. He didn't make prefect, but I reckon my mum did, but they were Head Boy and Head Girl when they reached their seventh year. I know that they joined the Order of the Phoenix and were able to escape Voldemort three times before . . . well, yeah. That's all I know, and it's all pretty much jumbled information I've gotten over the years."

"Whoa. Three times? That's freaky."

_Interesting choice of adjectives,_ Harry though. He noticed she didn't say Voldemort's name, but she didn't flinch at it either. Then he realized.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to mention Vol- I mean – "

"It's okay, you can say his name. I used to also, but now, I don't think he deserves one." Her voice had lost its deadened tone. It sounded slightly ominous and angry now.

"Huh?"

"I mean, he's obviously not HUMAN anymore, so we don't give him a human name. He doesn't deserve that privilege. Maybe I'll call him 'That Thing' from now on. Or something worse. Something that involves _a lot_ of swearing."

For the first time he heard a hint of bitterness in her voice.

She sighed. "I don't know why I said so."

"It's okay to be angry with him," Harry said, because he knew what that felt like. Boy did he know.

"It's not that, it's just that I don't want to be concentrating on revenge or . . . the injustice of the world just now."

"Oh."

"I'd rather concentrate on happy memories, nice, happy, bubbly, Disney-movie-endings thoughts," she said. Harry hadn't the least clue as to why, but decided not to say anything. Maybe she was delusional. "Found one!" she said. "When I was 10 my dad took me on one of those 'bring your kid to work' things and he showed me all around the ministry. There were owls flying everywhere and I saw one put droppings right on this man's toupee and he took it off cursing. I know it wasn't funny, but yeah, it was hilarious. Anyway, Dad told me that it was him that got the Ministry using those little paper airplanes they have now."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, not knowing whether or not he should ask her what he wanted to.

She got up off his shoulder. "What?"

Harry paused then said, "Did you go into the Department of Mysteries?"

She hesitated and then said, "Yes, I did. And there's something you should know."

"And that is . . . ?"

"I know about the prophecy."

"What?"

"I wandered into the room with the orbs and I heard Professor Dumbledore and the guardian of the prophecies talk about the re labeling of it and, well, I got the gist of it."

"So you know that my life must include or end in murder?"

She nodded. "I guess I was being hypocritical when I told you not to eavesdrop."

"Wait, how do you even know that I know about the prophecy?"

"I _really_ shouldn't eavesdrop."

"It's okay. But promise me you won't tell anyone, because I want to tell them when I'm ready."

She gave him another half smile. "All right, but only if you don't tell anyone that my father is dead, I want to tell them _that_ when I'm ready."

"Deal." Harry paused. "What about your mother?"

She turned to face him, causing his arm to loose its hold on her. "There's still hope, and I need to be able to keep hoping, Harry, or else I won't be able to survive these next few months. She's still alive, I know it." (A/N: That's important. If not to the story, than at least to Liz herself.)

Harry nodded not wanting to upset her. He didn't believe there was hope, but if she did, he wasn't going to argue with her. Not now at least.

"When someone you love leaves you forever, what do you reckon one's supposed to do?" she asked him looking down at the carpet.

Harry thought for a bit. "Different people have different ways," Harry said. "But it's best not to dwell on grief or anger. Try your best to realize that no one really leaves and then maybe find a way to be happy." Harry wasn't exactly sure of what he was saying, but he liked the genuine smile that Liz flashed his way.

"Thanks, Harry," she reached forward and gave him a hug.

He was sure that Liz would be able to feel his heart beating wildly. She let go, looked at him a moment longer, leaned back onto the desk and they spent another hour or two watching some more home videos. She looked at him then started, like she just realized she had spent maybe six hours of her night sitting next to him. She then said, "I don't want to burden you with my problems any longer than need be." She stood up and grabbed his hand, leading him out of the room and to the door.

Harry didn't try to stop her because he was still very much surprised at her abrupt way of breaking their silence.

"I'm really glad I got to talk to you, Harry. Thank you, I really appreciate it." She put her hand on his shoulder for a moment then brought it back down. She jumped once more, suddenly realizing she was still holding his hand and she let go quickly. "Go to bed, I don't want to be responsible for you not being able to function properly because of lack of sleep in the morning. Good night, Harry." She shut the door.

Harry was glad that he was able to help her feel better, but a little disappointed he didn't get a kiss good night, even one on the cheek might have been nice. He went to bed half noticing that his shirt was dry already and, as ordered, he slept soundly.

Meanwhile, Liz was stumbling to her bed not even bothering to change into pajamas first. She found tears steadily streaming down her face in the dark room once more and she was shaking from the force of the wail of despair she had so far kept in. There in the dark, with her face pressed down on the pillow, she screamed, mostly because of the empty feeling in her heart and the sick feeling in her stomach that told her that something was missing, and those feelings caused her pain. About 40 percent of that scream was to express her self doubt, which consisted of the awful thought that she might very well be responsible for her father's death, the fact that her mother could be dead and that she was holding on to a foolish expectation, and also for another reason, miniscule compared to all the others.

A/N: Long, wasn't it? You just read ten pages! Hope you liked it! Pay attention to that last sentence . . . the explanation comes up around their November.


	11. Waiting on a Reaction

The Aftermath

Chapter Eleven

Waiting on a Reaction

Meanwhile, Harry was getting into bed. Much to his surprise, the shoulder of his shirt wasn't soaking with tears.

Harry dropped into bed and pulled up the covers. At the moment, he was much too tired to think. But one thought did have time to enter Harry's mind before his head dropped upon his pillow.

_What is it about her_? He thought, his eyelids drooping. That was a question that had many answers to it, and he was okay with that, believe it or not.

Harry woke up late the next morning, right near eleven, yet he stayed in bed a few more moments mulling over the dream, or vision, whatever it was that he had a few weeks ago. He just realized – the girl's voice he had heard must have been Liz. What else had he heard? He thought hard. He heard . . . the thud of a box, and maybe a bird sound. He couldn't account for the hawk he could've sworn he heard, but the thud of a box was probably a bump of a suitcase. Liz had escaped out of that room before Voldemort had blasted his way in and killed her parents. Harry knew that Liz's mother must be dead. He didn't know why Liz wanted to cling so desperately to a false hope. And he wondered why she wasn't more upset. When Sirius had died, the last thing he wanted to think about was Sirius. Liz wanted to watch _home videos_. He would never understand girls. Forget that, he just couldn't understand Liz, including the fact that she looked different every time he saw her.

There was also another thing he became conscious of. _HE_ knew what Voldemort had been after, that key or whatever it was. But did Liz know?

He got dressed and, remembering suddenly about those circle sofa teleport things, took one of them down to the hall sofa outside the dining room. He bounced off and went in the door. Already people were cleaning up.

Ron looked up and saw him. "Where were you, mate? I was about to eat your waffles!"

Harry saw a plate of three Belgian waffles sitting in solitude on the table. He sat down and poured some syrup onto them. They tasted delicious even if they weren't warm. "I slept in," he said to Ron as Moochi came by and took the syrup canister. "I guess I was more tired than I thought I was."

For some reason, Ron snickered.

"What?"

"Well, it's just that neither you nor Liz came to breakfast this morning," he said with a grin appearing.

"Are you saying - ?"

"And Fred and George made the suggestion that – "

Ginny came over and hit Ron on the shoulder. "You are so immature!" She rolled her eyes and took some plates over to Dolly, who was washing the dishes.

"Liz didn't come to breakfast?" Harry asked, although it didn't surprise him.

"Nope," Hermione said, sitting on Harry's other side and taking a bit of his waffle.

Harry hurriedly finished the rest of his breakfast, chugging down a glass of milk. "Okay, got to go!" he said, rising from his chair and running to the door, leaving Ron, Hermione, and Ginny staring blankly after him.

"What was that?" Ron asked the two, who shook their heads in response, confused.

Harry was sprinting around the whole of Moonlight Manor, a map in hand. He wished it were exactly like the Marauders Map because at least then he wouldn't have to – "Bloody run these stupid long halls!" he said to himself.

It was two o'clock in the afternoon and she wasn't anywhere in her room, or as far as Harry could tell, anywhere in the house. He had checked the basement, the first floor, the second, the third, and the fourth floors. The only place he hadn't checked yet was the roof.

He was halfway up the stairs to the fifth floor, which he hadn't been to yet, when he stopped. He wondered whether or not he should be trying to go after Liz. What if she wanted to be alone? And she had abruptly thrown him out the night before. What if she didn't want to see anyone? What if she didn't want to see him?

"You know what?" he spoke to the air. "Life's a whole lot simpler when you don't think too much."

Despite logic pointing to the contrary, Harry decided to go up and look for Liz anyway. He opened the door at the top of the staircase and was greeted by blazing daylight. Blinking, Harry stepped out onto what seemed like the biggest backyard a person could have, except of course that it was on top of the house instead of behind.

Harry was standing in the middle of a well cared for garden with smooth lawns, carefully trimmed hedges, and flowers planted in patterns all around. Everything seemed to be organized in giant swirls, like the winding path that Harry was standing on. It was broad with a wide strip of what looked like marble in the middle and cobblestones on the border. It also had many paths branching off of it. Just beyond the garden Harry saw what looked like a school playground, and next to that a park looking place, and beyond that –

Harry gasped. "A Quidditch field!"

Once Harry had gotten over that shock, he heard the sounds of animals coming from his left. Looking down the path, he saw what looked like a picnic basket. Harry paused, then hurried down it. He stopped by the basket and saw that whoever brought it had eaten the some of the contents but apparently saved some for a snack later. Further along the path Harry found a pair of roller blades. Harry went farther down the path and found Liz in her pajamas, lying down on a picnic blanket, reading a book, and petting her dog absentmindedly. It was such a peaceful sight that Harry didn't feel like he had the right to intrude.

"Hey," Harry said finally.

Liz looked up at him from her book. "Hi," she said before turning back to it.

Harry tried again. "I didn't see you this morning for breakfast. There were waffles."

"I'm sorry I missed them," Liz said.

"I'm sure the waffles were missing you too," Harry said.

Liz smiled briefly.

Harry continued. "As were some of the people. Hermione, Ginny, and Ron were wondering where you were. I think they were a little worried. I was too."

Liz blinked and looked up at Harry. "Really?"

The dog cocked its head at Harry too.

"Well," Harry said. "I know I was. And the others asked about you."

There was a pause in which Liz just looked contemplatively at Harry. After a bit, she said, "I don't get it."

It was Harry's turn to blink. "Hm?"

"I mean," Liz said, "I don't get why you guys would worry. I mean, no offense or anything, but apart from Ginny, each of you, including you too Harry, hardly know me."

Harry stood frozen for a moment. Then he shrugged. "But what we all do know, we like. You seem like a nice enough person – we'd all like a chance to know you better and eventually become friends. I mean, it's an age-old system. You meet someone new, you get to know them, and either you become friends or you don't."

Liz nodded. "True," she said, putting her book down and sitting up. "Sorry I pounced like that. I just get a little paranoid. Ask Ginny and she'll tell you what most of the girls in our year are like. They, alone, can make anybody paranoid about people."

"Well, for someone paranoid about people, you're sure willing to open up to complete strangers . . . almost," Harry said. "I know that we hardly know each other, but if you ever need any . . . impartial person you need to talk to . . . "

"I know," Liz said, pulling up a blade of grass. "But like I said before, Harry, I don't want to burden you with my problems."

"You can."

"I appreciate that," she said hesitantly, "it really isn't any of your business." _Why couldn't he just leave it alone? _She thought.

_Wow_, Harry thought. _She could have just said 'drop it.'_

"To speak frankly, Liz," he said, keeping his voice expressionless. "Anything concerning Voldemort does is pretty much my business." And she knew why. Well, the prophecy reason anyway.

She sighed. "Sorry."

Harry shrugged.

Continuing in a softer tone, Liz said, "But you understand why anything concerning my parents . . . why I'd like to keep it my business, right?"

Harry nodded.

"I mean, it's not like you're all that involved in my parents' business with Voldemort anyway," Liz said.

Harry frowned at her. "So Lupin didn't tell you exactly what tipped him off about your parents?"

"What do you mean? I assumed that the fact that my father was missing for three days was enough of a reason for him to check up on me at my uncle's."

"I suppose. But he knew pretty much the morning after the attack."

"How?"

Harry turned to look her straight in the eye. "Through me."

"Again, I don't see how."

"How doesn't matter, and the details in that department aren't very fine-tuned, but it was because of me that Dumbledore was alerted of the attack on your parents," Harry answered her.

He didn't know quite why he was telling her this. He trusted her, sure, but he knew that there'd be a big thing of it afterward. In fact, in the very back of his mind, he _wanted_ to goad Liz into a tantrum. At least then he'd know she was capable of making a big deal of something, if not her parents' deaths.

"Wait, you _knew_ that my father was dead and you never told me?"

"Well, how was I supposed to know he was your father?"

"What, you can't make a connection between a dead man and a girl who doesn't seem to have her father there? What exactly did you . . . how did you know?"

"I saw it in a sort of . . . vision, I guess you could call it – except only _as_ things were happening, not before. Don't ask me how, because I don't know," Harry couldn't believe he just said that. Did he want to make her mad?

"Well what happened?" she said, truly getting angry. "If you really had a vision of that night," she said, with a bit of sarcasm, "you couldn't recognize me? Because I _was_ there, believe it or not."

"How do you know whose view I saw it from?"

"But that still doesn't change the fact you knew about my father! There are pictures of him all around the place, and if you saw him die, don't you think the man in those pictures would look familiar."

"He did look familiar, but I wasn't about to jump to conclusions. When I jump to conclusion . . ." Harry stopped at the thought of his Godfather. "Well, bad things happen," he finished.

She stared at him. "If you did know, which you should have, would you have told me?"

"Would you have wanted to know?"

She paused. "Yes."

"I don't think you mean that."

"And why do you think so?"

"Ever hear the expression 'ignorance is bliss'?"

"But not knowing whether my parents were alive or not, all the doubt and the wondering over the possibilities would be infinitely worse!"

"And what about having hope?"

"But I'd rather know the truth!"

"Oh really?"

Liz rolled her eyes and stood up. "You know what Harry? I don't understand you. Don't talk to me again today. I need a bit of a break from everyone."

"Oh, so you prefer the company of dogs rather than of people?" Harry said, gesturing to the husky. The husky growled at him.

She glared daggers at him. "Apparently, or I wouldn't hang around with you as much!" and she stomped off.

So _she_ didn't understand _him_. Well he didn't understand her either! He wanted to understand her, that's why he wanted to talk to her. Something told him he went about it the wrong way. Or was she just trying to distance herself from him? If she was, he knew he made it entirely too easy for her.

A/N: I know, they're both being bitchity (my word!) In fact, she is trying to distance herself from him – you'll find out why later. Maybe she's afraid she's putting him in danger. Maybe she just doesn't like him. Maybe there's some other reason. Maybe it's a few reasons combined. I know, and you don't, but don't worry you will.


	12. Trying to Help

**The Aftermath**

Chapter Twelve  
Trying to Help

Harry lay on his bed. It was four in the afternoon, and he was still trying to sort things out in his head. The more he tried, the more confused he became. Five hours later, he was still on his bed and nearly pulling out his hair in frustration. Why did Liz have to be so bloody complicated? Harry found himself wishing he knew Legimens, because at least then he would know what was going through her mind.

Hermione and Ron entered the room.

"Why weren't you at dinner, mate?" Ron said.

Harry shrugged, not sitting up. "Just lying here . . . thinking."

"Well, we all have a lot on our minds, and I hate to add another one to your burden, Harry, but" Hermione paused.

"Out with it then," Harry said vaguely.

"Liz didn't show up for dinner either, and since no one saw her all day we went to go look for her," Ron said.

"And . . . ?" Harry was beginning to see where this was going.

"We found her," Hermione said. "She was a real wreck though! She was sobbing in the gardens and it was really dark. We asked her what was wrong and she didn't answer us."

There was a silence. "What does that have to do with me?"

Hermione stared at him. "Well, you seem to know her better than the rest of us, so did she say anything to you?"

Harry shrugged.

Ron sat up to look at him as well. "Did you talk to her at all today?"

Harry grunted.

"It would be nice if you communicated with us using words, Harry!" Hermione scolded.

"Yeah, I saw her this afternoon."

The two of them looked at him expectantly.

"What happened?" Hermione asked him.

Harry sat up slowly, propping himself up on his shoulders barely lifting his back off the mattress. "She wasn't a real mess when I saw her. She was just sitting there in the garden by the menagerie reading. We talked a bit and the conversation ended when she walked away all huffy and stuff."

"So _you_ made her – "

"No, it's something else."

"How do you know?"

Harry paused. He had promised not to tell anyone about Liz's parents being dead. "I said she _wasn't a mess_ when I saw her, I didn't say she was _normal_."

Hermione paused. "How was she acting then?"

"Kind of cold, she was rather short with me now that I think about it," Harry answered truthfully. "Didn't smile much . . . in fact, I don't think she smiled at all."

"Why do you think she got mad at you?" Ron asked.

Harry paused again. He was a little confused there as well. He knew he shouldn't have brought up her father, but he couldn't say that to Ron and Hermione. Instead, he lied. "I guess because I wouldn't drop the fact that she wasn't acting normally."

Hermione looked at him. "Do you think you could talk to her?"

"Probably not. She's probably still angry with me."

"Then apologize and then talk to her."

"Why me?"

"Because you're the one who seems to know her more than we do," Ron said to him.

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Hermione said, and Harry got the feeling that she had made an effort not to roll her eyes.

"Okay, say I do apologize, and she doesn't accept the apology," Harry said.

"Then leave the door open for her to talk to you," Hermione said.

"What if she asks what I'm apologizing for?" Harry said. "I don't know a definite answer."

"Apologize for upsetting her then."

"What if I don't want to apologize?" Harry asked.

"Do you like the fact that she's angry with you?" Hermione answered.

Harry thought of giving her a defiant "yes" but knew he couldn't. Letting himself fall back onto the mattress, he sighed and said, "No, I don't." He didn't know _why_ but it was true.

"Then go say sorry!" Hermione said.

"Now?" Harry asked. It was about 9:30. "I'm kind of tired."

Hermione looked at her watch. "Fine, tomorrow morning then. It'd probably be best to let her sleep it off."

"Okay."

"You _will_ go talk to her, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, promise."

"Okay then."

Ron and Hermione got up. "See you later, mate," Ron said.

The bright light from the hall momentarily lit up Harry's dark room. He had only lit one of the lamps. Harry got up and turned the rest of the lights on. Looking out of the window, Harry wondered whether or not the view was real or not. Knolls lit by moonlight rolled on in every direction. Quarter moon.

Looking at the window frame, Harry saw a square security pad and a menu. A view menu. His was currently set on "Outside" but the featured views included Sunset Over the Caribbean Sea, From the Top of the Eiffel Tower, The Bell Tower of Notre Dame, Niagra Falls, (A/N: I think that's how you spell it, it's an island in Hawaii covered in tropical flowers and waterfalls), Stonehenge, Big Ben, Trafalgar Square, The Coliseum, and others.

_Geniuses!_ Harry thought. It was no wonder they were rich. Liz probably embodied the innovation that resided in her parents' genes. The Wallaces really should have had another kid to maybe siphon off that concentrated hereditary intelligence. To try and take his mind off of Liz's drama, and the lady herself, Harry sat back down on the bed to peruse his Hogwarts letter, checking off what he did and did not need.

After a few minutes of this tedious task, Harry couldn't concentrate anymore. Looking at Hedwig, he said, "What do you think Voldemort's planning? What role do you think the Wallaces play in his scheme? No, explain this: they're smart people right? How could they let themselves get caught leaving Liz here to deal with him? What happened that night? What . . . " Harry got blank stares from his snowy owl. "Happened . . . " he trailed off.

_All right_, Harry thought, getting out of bed. "So Liz doesn't want to talk about her parents' death, how she really feels about it, how it _doesn't_ concern me . . . _fine_. But this _does_ concern me. I need to know . . . something . . . anything. I hate being left in the dark." And consequently at the moment he picked up a flashlight. Maybe there was something he could do before he talked to Liz in the morning. He could investigate.

Harry put on a jacket (his room was provided with a wardrobe that, on the first day there, had made measurements and scanned colors and provided him with clothes that were stylish and suited him well) and a pair of Nike trainers and headed out.

What Harry hadn't anticipated was the fact that he could very well get lost and he hadn't brought his map. He realized this when he ran into a random staircase and didn't know where it led. "Oh well," he said, talking out loud to keep himself company. "Someone will find me in the morning."

He climbed the staircase and to his surprise, it led to the gardens. It was cold, so Harry immediately zipped up his jacket. It was a summer night but his breath still fogged up in front of him.

Looking around him, Harry found himself getting goose bumps. It was dark and cold and he was very alone. Actually quite funny how he could do things like enter the Forbidden Forest following a trail of spiders and feel uncomfortable when he was doing this. Then again, Ron had been with him then.

Harry jumped at the sound of barking. Knowing he was in the wrong place didn't stop him; Harry was curious so he followed the sound. It sounded like way more than the one dog that Harry knew that Liz owned. Wondering where the sound would lead him, a sign on the path answered his question: it was the word "kennel" with an arrow.

Harry followed the path, walking briskly now. He didn't like to think of all that space behind him. With the building in sight, Harry broke into a jog.

"Ahoy! What's the hurry?"

The beam of the flashlight abruptly rested on a dog that was seated in the middle of the path and for a moment its eyes gleamed in the torch's (A/N: I forgot they call flashlights "torches" over there . . . right?) light. In Harry's jumpy state, the dog looked like a wolf and as far as Harry was concerned, the source of the voice could be a very sinister source indeed. Harry shouted (screamed would probably be a closer description), backed away, and seeing as how he had been going so fast in the first placehe lost his balance and fell over.

A barking laughter filled his head and he came to his senses. "You must be new," the same voice spoke in Harry's head.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, most of the time, when people visit, they already know the story. Forgive me for staring, but you just look so comical!"

"Well stop staring!" Harry said to the dog, scrambling to get up. "You scared the hell out of me!"

The dog was still laughing. "You would have had time to deal with the shock if you had been watching where you were going. You were almost full out running!" More laughter.

"It's nice to know the animals here are so happy," Harry said, starting to walk down the path once more. "You take entirely too much enjoyment in the fact that I just fell over." The batteries in the light had been jostled and the thing wouldn't turn on. While struggling with the device, Harry asked, "What story? Am I dreaming? No, I'm too cold to be dreaming. How can there be a talking dog?"

"I'm not talking," the dog responded.

"Oh good," Harry said.

"No, I meant the literal definition of talking. I'm communicating with you, yes, and don't worry you aren't crazy, and I'm sorry, you aren't asleep either. Lizzy never told you? Well I suppose she wouldn't – she could get in a lot of trouble, you see, with all those Experimental Charms bans and such. You have to get a license to do stuff like that because quite frankly, stuff like that is really dangerous – especially when you come to a witch as gifted as our Liz. Anyhow, Lizzy is a bookworm you know that? Well she is . . . "

_So this animal is going to keep on talking?_ Harry thought.

"And when she was little," the dog continued, "She loved this series of picture books . . . some stupid books about a dog named Martha. This dog ate a can of alphabet soup and could suddenly talk. Well, Liz got it into her little head that if you did this with all dogs, it would work, and of course it didn't. Kima, who was just a pup at the time, was there when it happened.

"Liz was so upset when it didn't work, but suddenly a big flash of light, Kima ate the soup, and suddenly BOOM, she was blasted with human intelligence, reason, humor . . . actually, I'd say more that average human intelligence, reason, and humor because some humans aren't as clever as us dogs. Well, left on her own, Ms. Liz can get into a _lot_ of trouble. She fed the alphabet soup to all us animals – she just kept making more and more and more and more and more . . . "

"Let me finish this story for you," Harry said, jerking the light back into action and shining it in the dog's face, "Now you can communicate your exact thoughts and wishes to any hapless human that comes along, and now you live happily ever after?"

The dog, which looked like a rather charming mix of a golden retriever and a German shepherd, trotted along side him, golden brown ears flopping merrily. Now it looked nothing like a wolf. "And why wouldn't we be happy? Good food, plenty of animal company, nice places to play, comfortable places to sleep, tons of toys, no fleas or ticks, and the best owners dogs could ever ask for. However we _can't_ communicate to _any_ human. Only people who know Liz. Ooh, and you know what? We're even eavesdrop proof! Isn't that splendid? We can talk to one person at a time telepathically without any of the others being none the wiser! We could never betray our owners: and we don't. We're loyal; which is another quality that some humans have yet to grasp, you know."

"Aren't your owners, you know, never around here?" Harry asked. Talking was something that could keep his face warm . . . and from having a panic attack.

"We don't live here normally. Used to live at the main house, but when they move house, we come too. It kind of works like those circle sofa thingies in the house, except it works with a whole building. It's always a bit disoriented at the beginning, but things always sort themselves out."

Harry decided not to inquire further. Insead, he asked, "They're really that nice to you, huh?"

"Yep."

"It's too bad . . . " Harry didn't know whether or not to mention Thomas Cain.

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Oh, you mean about Tom?" the dog said sadly. "You know?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I do."

The dog's tail now hung limp. "He was a good man - always had time to play Frisbee.The guywas almost a dog himself really. He romped and rolled with the best of us, even if he was wearing one of hisexpensive suits. Really strong type really, but always gentle and kind when it came to his family and us. Always had a sense of humor though and he was a good sport when we were able to tackle him, which, I tell you, wasn't easy. He was really fast! Probably had something to do with the fact that his Animagus form was a horse."

"Wow, he sounds like he was some character!"

"You should have known him, he was among the best of them. And he was the best barbecue griller in the world! I swear, he knew his way around meat!"

"You're such a dog."

"Thank you!"

Harry laughed, and the dog's tail started moving again.

"So, Sir Dog, do you have a name?" Harry asked.

"Ranger, and you're Harry Potter I assume?"

"Liz told you about me?"

"No, I saw you in that edition of the Quibbler a few months back. I think that's the only edition of the Quibbler that Kate, Liz's mom, ever bought. I don't even think she bought it, I think Liz sent it to her. I remember hearing Kate say that it was the only one that was actually worth something. The truth is a valuable thing. It isn't always what you want it to be, but at least it's always constant. Lies, stories, can change in an instant. But when you know the truth . . . well, I'm sure you know the feeling."

"Let me guess, it was that article that turned around the household's opinion that I was just some attention starved psycho?"

"No, unlike the rest of the idiots out there, we trusted Dumbledore. Dumbledore doesn't make many mistakes, and if we can't believe anything that he says, the world, as they say, and this is a saying I don't get, would've gone to the dogs. As if we could trust solely in Fudge!"

Harry was glad to hear this. He also heard something else, something that sounded like music.

"Oh tornado turds, they've started!" Ranger hurried forward.

"Started what?" Harry asked, running after the dog. _Tornado turds? That's one nasty thing I hope I never hear again . . ._

Ranger zoomed through the dog flap and Harry opened the door. He was immediately met by blasts of music. The bass in the song was shaking the ground and Harry felt it vibrate his body and could swear that the sound was shaking his bones.

_Who let the dogs out?_

_Woof! Woof, woof, woof!_

"Holy poo on toast!" (A/N: stole that from What a Girl Wants)

"Isn't it great?" Ranger said.

Harry couldn't find anything to say for a moment. All words seemed to have vacated the premises of his brain. Then, "You changed the lyrics."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Ranger had super sharp dog hearing, but he couldn't hear Harry over the music.

"I said that you changed the lyrics!"

"We can bark 'who, who, who, who' much better than we can sing it," Ranger said, his tail wagging to the beat.

Harry could hear the Baha Men singing over the dogs' yelps, which he assumed where cheers and whoops.

_When the party was nice, the party was bumpin' Hey, Yippie, Yi, Yo  
__And everybody havin' a ball Hah, ho, Yippie Yi Yo  
__I tell the fellas "…start the name callin'…" Yippie Yi Yo  
__And the girls report to the call the poor dog show up! ha ha ha ha_

Harry was dumbfounded. Then, he just started laughing, and found he couldn't stop.

"Now you're getting it!" Ranger commented. "Sing along, it's fun!"

Still laughing, Harry shook his head. "I'll sit this one out, thank you very much!"

The chorus started and Ranger barked in time with the lyrics. Harry was almost rolling on the floor laughing. He watched the dogs, tails wagging to the beat and barking with the chorus. He was barely able to hold in his laughter when the song ended and the dogs did their "Arf, arf, aroo!"s.

Then Ranger got up on his hind legs gave a "ruff!" and a jerk of his head in Harry's direction. Probably announcing my arrival, Harry thought to himself.

A chocolate brown Labrador came up to Harry as J-Kwon's Tipsy started to play. "Welcome Harry! We don't get many visitors around here, so I must say this is a pleasant surprise."

Harry grinned and reached up to scratch the Labrador between the ears (he had to reach up because he was sitting down cross legged on the grass). "It's nice to be here."

"I hope you feel comfy and don't worry about pooper scoopers or anything like that because we are probably the only animals in the world who have bathrooms to use."

Harry laughed and nodded. "That's nice to know!"

The group of dogs left and Ranger ran up to Harry. "I'll be your guide through the animal house tonight, because you do need one. This place is huge, and you could get lost. We couldn't be responsible for that, now could we?"

"Thanks," Harry said, getting up and brushing himself off. "Are you guys having some sort of party?" He asked, referring to the music.

"No, we just do this every night."

"Whoa! All of the dogs?"

"Nope, just the guys," Ranger said. "The girls would rather sleep."

"Oh, are all the animals asleep?" Harry asked. If they were, then he didn't want to wake them.

"No! It's only ten!" Ranger said, surprised. "But why though?"

"Why what?"

"What brings you here this time of night?"

Harry paused. "I kind of . . . couldn't sleep," he said.

"I smell a rat," Ranger cocked his head to the side. "And if you're tired, which you look like you are, you should be able to sleep. So why can't you? Do you have some ulterior motive to roaming around while the rest of your buddies are sleeping?"

Harry blinked. A growl began to rise from Ranger's throat.

"All you need to know," Harry said reluctantly, "is that I just want to help."

"I see . . . yeah, I guess it would help Liz if she talked to someone like you or those other kids," Ranger said thoughtfully. "It'd be better if we could contact those kids who used to come around all the time, but I have a feeling Dumbledore wouldn't allow it . . . " Ranger said this last part more to himself than Harry. "Well, it'd be best to talk to Kima, Carli, and Lightning. They belong to Liz, and Liz alone, so they're closest to her."

Harry nodded. "I've met Kima, she's that Siberian husky right?"

"Yuh huh, and Carli's the white cat that has a patch of black fur on her right paw that kind of looks like a star, and Lightning is that golden horse. Lightning is half unicorn so he sort of glows, you'll know him straight away. Oh, and my own personal advice? Quidditch is a good conversation starter with Liz. Her broom of choice is a Thunderflash, which is second only to the Firebolt."

"Ok, Thunderflash, got it." Harry said nodding.

"Kima's kind of cute, I wouldn't mind talking to her myself . . . "

"Whoa! I do _not_ want to know this!"

"Okay, okay, I'll just lead you to them!"

"Good!"

Ranger led Harry futher into the kennel, but they couldn't find Kima. Then he went to the place where the cats were kept (which had balls and balls of rerolling yarn, climbing poles, scratching posts, and other such things) and they couldn't find Carli, and then they went to the stables, and no Lightning.

"Really, this is getting ridiculous!" Ranger barked, looking agitated. He went up to a nearby white mare. "Excuse me Misty, but did you happen to see where Lightning went?"

"Yeah, he's out by the waterfall," Misty said obligingly.

"Thanks!" Ranger said, trotting out of the menagerie into the night air once more. "You coming?" he called after Harry, and Harry followed.

They followed a cobblestone path for a while and Harry heard the sound of rushing water. Harry blinked. They had a _waterfall_ in their backyard. There were dark shapes moving at the pool at the bottom of the waterfall and the sight gave Harry the creeps.

Ranger stopped. "I smell fear, and I think it's coming from you."

"You say it as though I just passed gas."

"Hey, fear, like gas, is a part of nature. Out with it, what's bugging you?"

"Nothing, let's just keep going."

"No, what?"

"Nothing!"

"Really, what?"

"Nothing!"

"Oh, that."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, what?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"You're afraid of the dark."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"I so am not!"

"You so are!"

"You know what, never mind."

"If it bothers you that much, just turn on the lights!"

"There are lights out here?" Harry hadn't thought of that.

"Have you seen the rest of the house? There are lights everywhere! None of the Cains were too happy about all that empty space, so they filled the emptiness with light and sound. To turn on all the lights, which I don't suggest because it becomes so bright it's almost day, you say 'Lights on!' but if you just want it sufficiently illuminated so that you can see and it's not quite so 'creepy' I suggest you turn on the pathway lights."

"Er . . . okay . . . pathway lights on!" And the place brightened.

Harry could now see that the three dark shapes he had seen before were just the animals that he had desperately wanted to find. They approached the dog, cat, and horse.

Ranger went forward, speaking with them, but Harry apparently was excluded from the conversation because they didn't project their words into his mind. (A/N: but seeing as how I know what they're saying, I can tell you!)

"Hey guys! A visitor!" Ranger called out, rushing up to them.

"Hey Range!" Kima called. "How did the bacon treat you this morning?"

"Oh, it was great, I swear, Molly Weasley is among the best cooks in the world! But I'dgive upthe bacon for a shishkebab any day!"

Carli rubbed against his leg in a gesture of hello. "Hi Ranger! Who's he?"

"Really Carli, must you be so rude!" Lightning said playfully.

"Me? Rude? Never!" Carli said, purring.

"Well, I'm going to say hello," Lightning said.

"All right . . . watch the tail!" Cali hissed slightly. Lightning had walked forward and his hoof had pressed down on her tail.

"Sorry!"

"Fishsticks, that hurt!" she said, yowling loudly.

By this time, Harry had reached them.

"Hi," he said nervously.

"Oh, hello," Lightning said, still distracted by Carli.

"Hey Harry," Kima said. "I suppose Range's caught you up on the . . . peticulars?" She said, referring to the communication issues.

"Hey Kima, and yeah," Harry replied. He looked down at the white cat. "What's wrong?"

"_He_ stepped on my _tail_!" she said to Harry, her mournful "meerow" reaching his ears.

"I can help with that," he said. He lifted Carli up and she lay on the grass in front of him. Petting under the chin, he soon got the cat to purr.

"That's better!" Carli said, getting up and stretching.

"Sorry Carli, but I can't always see everything from my height!" Lighting was saying, neighing apologetically.

"It's ok. So, Harry is it? What brings you here? It's almost midnight!" Carli said.

"Yes Harry," Kima said, agreeing. "You should be in bed."

"I just wanted . . . well, what it is is that . . . " Harry looked helplessly back at Ranger. "I kind of wanted to ask you whether Liz is all right or not." Of _course_ she's not okay! Harry thought to himself. _Well, I still need to know whether she's okay enough to talk. I still need to know things . . ._

"Um, no," Carli said.

"Harry, her father just died!" Lightning said. "That's going to be hard on a person."

"I know that, but I wanted to know how I could help her."

"Well, the talk you had before with her kind of helped," Kima said.

"I can't understand why she broke down this afternoon though," Carli said.

Harry looked away, pulling at a solitary piece of crab grass in the lawn. "I think that was my fault."

"No, it wasn't you," Lightning said. "She doesn't cry when she's mad."

"So she's still mad at me?"

"Eh, don't worry about it," Carli said. "She never stays angry for long."

"Maybe something happened when none of us was around. Maybe she sawsomeone's bike or something," Kima suggested.

Lightning nodded. "Because she's not one to spontaneously burst out in tears. She's stronger than that."

"And she's too smart to let the grief get to her," Carli commented. "She knows better."

"I agree," Kima said. "Liz is the type who always finds something good to hold on to. She's always got hope."

They spoke of her with such admiration that Harry was touched. "She must be really special, huh?"

Kima looked at him and with the utmost seriousness she said, "Honey, you don't know the half of it."

Author's Note: Now what did the dog mean by that? lol


	13. The Life of a Stranger

**The Aftermath**

Chapter Thirteen  
The Life of a Stranger

Harry woke up late the next morning because he hadn't gotten back until one in the morning. After he left the menagerie, even more confused than he already was, Harry tried to go snooping, but as he predicted, he got himself lost.

Harry tumbled out of bed, almost grazing the side of his head on the bedside table, and seeing as how the bed was nearly four feet above the ground, he hit the floor very painfully, but thankfully, missing the bed steps. Swearing, Harry got dressed at the speed of lightning. Rushing through the hallways and finding one of those teleporting sofas he practically fell through the door of the dining room.

He saw Ron and Hermione sitting at one end of the table eating their bacon and eggs and he sat down next to them heavily, helping himself to a plate of sunny side up eggs.

"Morning. Where's Ginny?" he said putting a forkful of eggs in his mouth.

"She finished with breakfast this morning," Ron said. "Went up to the roof to train. She's trying out for Chaser this year, remember?"

"Okay," Harry said vaguely.

"You're talking to Liz today, right?" Hermione said.

"Uh huh," Harry answered her, still a bit preoccupied. He had begun thinking about Liz's parents again, and was wondering why they had been killed. The key, yeah, whatever the bloody hell that was.

"Harry? Earth to Harry!" Ron was saying.

"Yeah?"

Hermione frowned at him. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Mate, the fork was in midair for a full minute and the yolk is dripping all over the table," Ron said.

"Oh, woops," Harry said, reaching for a napkin.

Hermione was still frowning at him. "Harry, is there something you're not telling us?"

"What makes you say that?"

Hermione stared at him. "What do you think, mate?" She started to count on her fingers. "One, you hardly ever talk anymore. Two, you almost always seem distracted. Three, you never seem interested in the doings of the Order anymore because when we're asking questions you're just sitting there staring and not paying attention! We thought for sure that if anyone was going to be curious, it'd be you."

"And you're always running off somewhere on your own," Ron added. "You usually include us when you do stuff like that. What's up?"

"I know you must be upset about Sirius, but couldn't you talk to us?" Hermione said to Harry. "And if it's not Sirius is it anything else?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell them about his vision, Lupin had told him not to. He couldn't talk about Liz's parents, Liz had asked him not to. Harry couldn't Voldemort's plans with them, what if they became endangered with the knowledge? And he couldn't tell them about the prophecy. Harry wasn't ready for that yet. He was saved momentarily from coming up with a reply by the arrival of Hogwarts letters.

These weren't the normal school letters. They were the text results. Hermione took her letter from the stack and was about to put it aside and make further inquiries to Harry when she realized what she was holding in her hand and all but demolished the envelope in order to reach its contents. This wasn't a normal Hogwarts letter. It was the results of their O.W.L. exams. Ron realized this too, and tore at the seal. Harry reached forward and grabbed his own.

Ron was smiling. "Hey, I didn't do half bad! Ten O.W.L.s (A/N: that's pretty good, right?) You Harry?"

"It looks as if it's possible I can become an Auror!" Harry said, grinning. "Charms, Outstanding, Transfiguration, Exceeds Expectations (guess I may have to work on that), Potions, yes! I got an O!" Harry heaved a sigh of relief.

Hermione looked over his shoulder at his letter. "Whoa, Harry! Look at your Defense Against the Dark Arts score! You got more than the possible points!"

Harry scanned the page. "Oh, yeah. My examiner let me produce a Patronus for extra credit," he said grinning.

Ron laughed. "No need to ask her what she got – nuh uh uh!" he added putting his hand over her mouth. She blurted out her answer into his hand but it wasn't understandable. "Let me guess . . . twelve O.W.L.s?"

He took his hand off her mouth. Looking slightly disappointed that she didn't get to say it herself, Hermione said, "Yes, as a matter of fact I did."

Harry and Ron spent the remaining half hour before nine o' clock entertaining Hermione with stories about their Divination exams. Harry was glad they forgot the previous subject

At nine though, Hermione reminded Harry that he had to go talk to Liz.

"Oh, that's right," Harry said, looking at his watch (the watch that Lupin had given him on his birthday) and getting up. "See you later."

He left the room and headed for the Dual Wing.

Harry reached her door a quarter after nine. He stood there a moment, then started to walk back the way he came. He stopped, came back to the door, and then backed away again. (A/N: if you've watched Love Actually, this is a lot like that part where Mark, played by Andrew Lincoln, is indecisive upon the subject of talking to Juliet, played by Keira Knightley).

"If you're coming in, come in already!" Liz called through her door. "The noise of your pacing is driving me crazy!"

Harry hesitated for one more moment, then opened the door. Liz was on her bed, putting in a CD in a slot that happened to be installed at the foot of her bed. She was still in her pajamas, black sweat pants with white stripes at the sides and a white tank top with a black neckline and straps and black stripes on the sides. Her hair was raven colored and layered. She looked up.

"Oh," she said simply. "You."

Harry gave a small smile. "Yeah, me."

She resumed putting the CD. She tossed the case to Harry. "Can you put this on the shelf over there? Put it in right before Youth Asylum."

Harry looked at the case. "Yellowcard, Ocean Avenue?"

"Yeah," she said as Way Away started playing.

_I think I'm breaking out  
__I'm gonna leave you now  
__There's nothing for me here  
__It's all the same_

_And even though I know  
__That everything might go  
__Go downhill from here,  
__I'm not afraid_

"You can sit down if you like," Liz said to Harry when he finished. She pressed a button on the bedpost and a comfortable looking armchair appeared by the side of her bed.

"Ok, thanks," Harry said.

_Way away, away from here I'll be  
__Way away, away so you can see  
__How it feels to be alone and not believe  
__(How it feels to be alone and not believe)  
__How it feels to be alone and not believe  
__Anything_

"Anything in particular you wanted to talk to me about, Harry?" Liz asked him, reaching for a book entitled Point Blanc.

Harry nodded, but didn't say anything. He was still trying to decide how to start.

Liz put the book down and flopped over to the foot of the bed. She pressed the random button on the CD player. When she was finished with that, she looked at Harry expectantly. "Yes?" she said, as Twenty Three began to play.

_. . . I know he didn't have the answers all the time  
__But you can't tell me that you've never told a lie  
_

_We're almost twenty-three and you're still mad at me  
__So much that I said to you and I want to take it back now  
__Twenty-three and it's so sad to me  
__You tell the world I'm dead to you  
__But I know you want me back now_

"I just . . . " Harry began. He paused, took a breath, and continued. "I just wanted to apologize."

"Hm," Liz said, cocking her head to the side and raising her eyebrows. "Apologize. For what, may I ask?"

Harry had a feeling that she was trying to test him to see if he knew what he had said wrong. Harry knew, but he wasn't going to say it. He figured if he was going to apologize, he might as well go the full mile. Harry licked his lips. "I think I was trying to purposely make you mad."

Whatever answer Liz had been expecting, it wasn't that. A confused frown crept into her face. Pushing her hair behind her ear, she spoke. "Okay . . . er . . . why?"

_Was it fun for you to watch him fall apart? (Watch me fall)  
__And suffocate him while you held him in your arms (in your arms)  
__I swear to God I wish he never let you in (let you in)  
__And I just hope we never hear from you again_

"I don't know," Harry answered honestly. "I didn't want to _hurt_ you, though I'm sure I did, but I wanted to see how you'd react, _if_ you'd react."

Liz's mouth opened in incredulity. "You didn't think I'd react if you talked about my dead father? You didn't think that I'd be hurt, or upset?" For a moment she looked as if she might shout and scream. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She held her eyes closed for a moment longer before looking at Harry again. The only sound was the song that was currently playing on the CD.

_How am I supposed to feel about the things I've done?  
__I don't know if I should stay or turn around and run  
__I know that I hurt you things will never be the same  
__The only love I ever knew I threw it all away_

"Do you honestly think I'm that unfeeling?" Liz asked him quietly. "I'm only human, Harry. Really, I am."

There was another long pause. A pause long enough for the CD player to choose another random song.

_If I could I would do all of this again  
__Travel back in time with you to where this all began  
__We could hide inside ourselves and leave the world behind  
__And make believe there's something left to find_

_We'll be miles apart  
__I'll keep you deep inside  
__You're always in my heart  
__A new life to start  
__I may be leaving but you're always in my heart_

"If you don't believe me, I'll tell you a secret, Harry," Liz said, her eyes boring into his. "I didn't like being reminded that my dad was beyond my reach, that I'd never speak with him again, that he'd never cook me that special shish kebab with the special teriyaki sauce and pixie stick dust, that he wouldn't be there at my wedding, and that now we weren't only miles apart, we weren't even in the same lifetime together anymore." Tears were misting in her eyes once more, but she blinked them away angrily.

_A new life to start  
__I may be leaving but you're always in my heart  
_

_I'd give it up for just one more day with you  
__Give it up, give it all away  
__I'd give it up for just one more day with you_

_We'll be miles apart  
__I'll keep you deep inside  
__You're always in my heart  
__A new life to start  
__I may be leaving but you're always in my heart_

_I need you now, we're miles apart  
__I'll keep you deep inside  
__You're always in my heart  
__I need you now, we're miles apart  
__I may be leaving but you're always in my heart_

"Why didn't you say that to me before?" Harry asked. "It's okay to feel that way and it's okay to show it!"

Liz bit her lip. "I know," she said. "But I don't want to be like those . . . people in stories and on TV that you feel _sorry_ for. I know it's not pathetic, feeling grief . . . but I also know that Dad wouldn't have wanted me to dwell on his death." Then she muttered something that Harry could barely hear. "And I don't want to self destruct again."

They were silent and another song began to play.

_And I'm sure the view from heaven  
__Beats the hell out of mine here  
__And if we all believe in heaven  
__Then we will make it through  
__One more year, down here_

_I hope that all is well in heaven  
__Cause it's all shot to hell down here  
__I hope that I find you in heaven  
__Cause I'm so lost without you down here_

_You won't be coming back  
__And I didn't get to say goodbye  
__I really wish I got to say goodbye_

Harry was now getting why Liz had chosen this album to play.

He looked at her. "I'm sorry. I really am."

_It's okay to be angry and never let go  
__It only gets harder the more that you know  
__When you get lonely if no one's around  
__You know that I'll catch you when you're falling down_

_We came together but you left alone  
__And I know how it feels to walk out on your own  
__Maybe someday I will see you again  
__And you'll look me in my eyes and call me your friend_

"I believe you," Liz said.

Harry waited. He was met with more silence, another pause long enough to allow another song to start playing.

_Even if I wanted to  
__I don't think that I'd get to you  
__There's nothing I can say to you to make you feel alive again_

_So don't just say goodbye to me  
__Just turn your back away and leave  
__And if you're lucky I will be your last regret, your only friend_

"And," Liz said, "I forgive you. And I guess I can understand where you're coming from."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

She looked at him and shrugged. "It's true. I don't show my emotions readily. But now you know that I'm breakable doesn't mean you have to be more careful with me, understood?"

"Ok," that was all Harry could say. "Are you going to tell anyone about your dad soon?"

Liz sighed. "What's the rush?"

"You've got them worried," Harry said.

"Who?"

"Ginny, Hermione, Ron," Harry said.

There was another pause. Liz seemed to be contemplating this. "I'll tell them. Don't worry." She said. "Just not now . . . before we go back to school though, for sure."

Harry looked at her and saw she meant it. "Are you going to be all right?"

She paused, then smiled, singing along quietly to the Yellowcard song that was now playing.

_Everything is gonna be alright  
__Be strong. Believe.  
__Think about the love inside the strength of heart  
__Think about the heroes saving life in the dark  
__Think about the chance I never had to say  
__Thank you for giving up your life that day_

She looked up and gazed right into his eyes and said, "Now isn't that a coincidence? Yeah, Harry. I'll be fine."

Harry smiled at her. "Now that is good news."

They exchanged a smile.

"These guys are actually pretty good," Harry commented.

"Yeah," Liz answered. "You can borrow this if you like."

"Okay."

Liz took the CD out and got up and put it in the case. "Here you go."

At eleven, Harry was in his room listening to track five.

_Whats a dad for, dad?  
__Taught me how to stand, dad  
__Took me by the hand, dad  
__And showed me how to be a bigger man, dad  
__Listened when you talked, dad  
__Followed where you walked, dad  
__And you know that I will always do the best I can... I can_

_Father, I will always be...(always be)  
__that same boy that stood by the sea  
__And watched you tower over me...(over me)  
__Now I'm older I want to be the same as you_

_The same as you_

A/N: There people, happy? There's an important clue in there, look closely to find them. Hint: it something she says quietly under her breath. Harry doesn't notice it, but will you? Give you one guess as to when I wrote this. Congratulations. I did write this when I first got the Ocean Avenue CD. There's also a hidden meaning behind some of the songs. I'll be nice and tell you which ones; there's another reason why I chose Miles Apart, and also another one for my choice of Believe, which is the same reason for choosing Way Away. There's a reason for everything!

* * *

Harry was pretty sure things were all right between him and Liz. That was a relief. He also hoped she could open up about her father soon. He figured it might make her feel better, and it would probably get Hermione off his, Harry's, case. 

Harry went off to breakfast and breathed a sigh of relief to see that Liz was there, putting large amounts of whipped cream, honey, and maple syrup on her buttermilk pancakes. Her hair was in two black pigtails and she was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a black sweatshirt that said "The Clash" on it.

"Good morning!" he said, sitting opposite of her and Ginny.

"You're up early for once!" Ginny commented.

"Well," Harry said, smiling, "Why not? It's a bright summer day and it helped that you could smell these pancakes all the way from Guest Room Seven."

Ginny laughed and Liz smiled wanly.

"Liz was just telling me that they raise bees here," Ginny said, nodding over to the honey jar. "They harvest their own honey."

Liz nodded, somewhat tiredly. "Yup. Monstrous sweet tooth syndrome, it runs in the family." Liz yawned, then continued. "My cousin, Shane, whenever I stayed at Uncle Gary's house I remember that that boy _never_ would drink his milk plain. He always had to add chocolate syrup. Oh! Chocolate syrup! That'd go with pancakes!" Liz made a move to get up, but she didn't. "Oh, bollocks, the cupboard is so far away!"

Ginny laughed. "Lazy Lizzy!"

"That's what Kerrie calls me," Liz said nodding sleepily in agreement.

"I'll get it," Harry said, getting up. "Maybe it'll help the sugar high along. You look like you need one!"

Liz shrugged. "Sorry, not a morning person."

"Which explains why no one can seem to catch you at breakfast!" Ginny commented. "At school or at home."

Liz put her hands up in surrender half heartedly, still holding her fork. "'At's 'ight!" she said, trying to talk past the chunk of pancakes in her mouth. She swallowed. "Got me."

"That was unenthusiastic," Ginny said. "Harry, hurry up with that chocolate sauce! We need to liven this girl up, stat!"

Harry trotted back to the table, a plastic bottle of nutella in his hand. He slid it across the table to the girls and helped himself to a plate of pancakes.

They continued breakfast, but neither Ron nor Hermione showed up.

After the meal, Liz introduced Ginny and Harry to the wonderful world of Playstation 2. Rather, she introduced it to Ginny and Harry was actually allowed to play on it. The three whiled away an hour or two before going upstairs. They arrived at the Guest Corridor in time to hear the last bit of Ron and Hermione's argument.

"Fine then!" Ron was yelling. "You go do that!"

"Fine!" Hermione shouted. "I will!"

She turned around and slammed her door. Ron did likewise.

Ginny rolled her eyes, Harry sighed, and Liz stood there with a shocked look on her face.

"What was that about?" she asked aloud.

"Probably something stupid," Ginny said.

"You get used to it after a while," Harry said. "It happens an awful lot. Not lately though. Yeah . . . wonder what caused that."

Liz looked confused.

Harry looked at her. "What?"

"It's just . . . " she looked suddenly shy. "I know it's none of my business or anything, but I just thought – "

Ginny interrupted. "Yeah, they probably do like each other, but they're too stupid to realize it."

"Never thought about it that way . . . but that sounds about right," Harry said.

"Should someone talk to them?" Liz asked warily.

"I don't know," Harry said, shrugging. "Maybe it'll do them some good to cool down a bit."

"Oh, okay."

Deciding to give "the squabbling couple" some space, the three of them went off to the roof to see the bees, and the other animals. They used a special potion lotion to keep the bees from stinging (bees after all can't eat alphabet soup) and collected some fresh honeycombs.

Then they visited the managerie, where Ranger frightened Ginny dreadfully by going up to them all and sending a rather loud "HIYA THERE!" to all three. Once Ginny got over the initial shock of this, she promised not to tell any other adults and begged Liz to see the Kneazles.

They also visited the winged horses. Liz had two breeds, the Aethonan and Granian winged horses. They also came across a rather cross Jarvey.

"Move it!" it said after it had run headfirst into Harry's leg, and it seemed to hurt Harry more than it hurt the Jarvey.

"Look where you're going, you stupid ferret!" Harry said angrily rubbing his shin as it scurried away. "What's _its_ hurry?"

Liz was following the Jarvey's progress through the garden with her eyes when she answered him. "Probably running from the hippogriffs."

"That's understandable," Harry said.

Ginny stared at her. "You have hippogriffs here?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Liz said walking in the direction the Jarvey came from. "My Aunt Gabby has a thing for hippogriffs and we keep a couple here so when she visits she's not too homesick or anything. Would you like to see them?" Harry and Ginny exchanged a look. Seeing their slightly worried expressions, she said, "Don't worry, they're extremely tame. You could even insult them and the worst you'd get would be an angry beak click or maybe a wing swat, though I wouldn't recommend you purposely insult them. Oh, and Dumbledore sent a newcomer, he said you knew him. He may be really lonely. What was his name? That one hippogriff that scratched that Malfoy prick way back when."

"Buckbeak?" Harry exclaimed.

"Yeah, that's the one!" Liz said.

"Ok, I'm up for it," Harry said.

Buckbeak was there and Liz owned three others. A cream colored female named Cashmere, a chocolate brown female called Cocoa, a golden youngster called Richie, and a strong looking silver male named Flight. Liz allowed Ginny to ride Cashmere while Harry and Liz attended to Buckbeak. Despite Harry's pleading, Liz point blank refused to feed Buckbeak some of that alphabet soup potion.

"I couldn't be responsible for something like that," Liz had said. The other hippogriffs had assured Harry, though, that they were treating Buckbeak like one of their own. Flight also commented that it did Buckbeak good that Harry came to visit.

"He's been telling us that this place is so unfamiliar," Flight had said to Harry. "I'm sure he's very glad to see a friendly face."

They walked around some more visiting most of the animals and all the while discussing the similarities of Jarveys and parrots.

They went back to the main part of the household for lunch. Ginny only agreed to come when Liz assured her that Kairi, the Kneazle that Ginny had taken a liking to and had been carrying for the whole morning, could join them at the table.

Harry observed Liz very carefully. Nothing perverted (he hoped), it was just to make sure that she was okay. He came to a final verdict by noon. She wasn't Miss Sunshine, but who could be in her shoes? But she wasn't depressed or angry or anything like that. It was definitely a good sign.

A/N: Aren't you proud of me? I managed to make one chapter that wasn't so soap opera - y! You can tell I've been reading Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them but that's okay. Sorry folks, not a Ginny/Harry sort of person. I would've been before if not for Cho Chang, and would be now if not for the fact Ginny is into other guys now. Okay, review people! And keep reading, the outcome of the Ron/Hermione fight is next, and yes, I do approve of the Ron/Hermione pairing.

I know we're really not allowed to put lyrics up, but I didn't know how to take them out without messing up the stuff that I was hinting at. I _did_ give credit ... oh well. I'll try and fix it later ...


	14. New Arrivals

**The Aftermath**

Chapter Fourteen  
New Arrivals

They entered the dining room and Liz and Ginny went off to get Kairi some Plimpy (which, to Harry's knowledge of magical creatures, was just a ball shaped fish).

Harry sat down just as Hermione and Ron came stomping in. They were jabbering at each other at the same time so their dialogue was indecipherable.

Liz and Ginny returned to the table, Kairi feasting on Plimpy and milk on the counter corner.

"Whoa! Pacey, Joey, to your corners!" Liz said.

Kairi hissed, making her real opinions about the squabble to Liz, Ginny, and Harry, but not to Ron or Hermione, otherwise they'd have been highly offended, and surprised that a Kneazle could know such foul language.

"Shut UP you two!" Ginny said, barely able to control a laugh, "You're upsetting Kairi!" She got up to calm the creature down.

Harry sighed. "What are you two fighting about this time?"

Ron's ears turned beet colored. "_Vicky_ sent Hermione a Tebo cape."

"His name, for the last time, is not Vicky!" Hermione yelled at him.

"A coat?" Harry said in disbelief. "Is that all?"

"Harry!" Ginny said, still petting Kairi, "Don't you know how expensive those are?"

"So?"

Liz rolled her eyes at him, and then gave him a small wink.

"And he assumed that I was going to send it back!" Hermione said. "I can only imagine how much trouble Viktor went through to get that for me!"

"It doesn't take a lot of imagination 'Herm-o-ninny'" Ron said. "He is a Quidditch player after all."

"But it'd be rude to give it back!" Hermione said.

"Oh, that's just an excuse to keep it," Ron said. "Never thought you were into material things."

"I'm not!"

"Then why don't you just give it back?"

"I already said this a billion times," Hermione answered Ron, "It would be impolite of me."

"Well," Liz said hesitantly.

"What?" Ron and Hermione said to her, rather snappishly.

"You aren't _with_ this said 'Viktor' are you, Hermione?" Liz said, her expression shrewd.

"No, I'm not," Hermione said.

A little color faded from Ron's ears. Harry saw this and looked over at Liz, who gave him a side-glance as well as well as a small conspiratorial smile.

"Then you _can't_ keep the cape," Liz said to Hermione.

"Why's that?"

Harry was guiltily enjoying seeing Hermione confused, especially since she was supposed to be the one who understood people's feelings best.

"Because then it would be like making a commitment to this fellow," Liz said. "Don't you watch movies? There was a scene dedicated to this stuff in the film 'Le Divorce.'"

Hermione looked thoughtful a moment.

"I mean, a bloke only gives a girl a diamond bracelet or something if it's one of their year anniversaries," Liz added. "And only a ring when they get engaged. He only gives her chocolates or flowers if it's Valentine's Day, or perhaps their first date. Books and stationary are gifts that go with the casual friendship."

Hermione thought a moment. "That is true."

"So," Ginny said. "What're you going to do?"

Hermione sighed. "I guess I'll have to give it back."

"Well?" Ron said.

"What?" Hermione snapped.

"Anything you want to say?"

"For heavens' sake, I'm not apologizing!"

"I didn't expect you to," Ron said scathingly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione replied testily.

"Why do you always have to be right?" Ron asked. "Can't you admit when you're wrong?"

"What am I wrong about?"

Silence from Ron.

Hermione snorted. "Right. That's what I thought."

They still weren't happy with one another, but at least they weren't yelling anymore.

Hermione looked over at Ginny. "That cape is really that valuable?"

Ginny nodded. "Yup. I don't know anyone rich enough to own one . . . unless Liz has one."

Liz froze a moment, and then she shook her head. "Nah, my mum would never approve of that sort of thing. She's a sort of environmentalist type person. Save the whales, protect our rainforests, stop werewolf persecution, that sort of thing. She once said to me, 'Every living being has the right to live a worthwhile existence.' That's a lesson I've had since I was five."

"Yet you still have house elves," Hermione said quietly.

Liz looked at her. "Touché, but have you ever heard of a little thing called The House-Elf Relocation Act?"

"No, actually I haven't," Hermione said, interested. "What is it?"

"Since house-elves won't stop working for free," Liz said, "And refuse to take sick leaves, the only thing we can do as wizards is make sure they aren't mistreated. The Relocation Act helps stop abuse of house-elves and puts dismissed house-elves back into work, as explained by Mum and Dad when they were working on instating it back when I was about seven years old."

Hermione blinked. "Seriously?"

"They got it established in the States," Liz said, "but it's barely been approved here, and places like Canada, the Atlantic coast of South America, other countries in Europe . . . the governments there are still debating whether or not to try it."

"It'd be so cool to meet your parents, Liz," Ginny said. "They sound brilliant!"

Liz looked at Harry for a split second. She wasn't sure how to respond to that, but she was saved from answering by the arrival of Mrs. Weasley, who began distractedly making sandwiches. She seemed worried, at one point she put mayonnaise on her hand instead of a slice of bread.

"Er . . . Mum," Ginny said, looking over her mother's shoulder. "Are you doing all right?"

"Yeah," Ron said, taking residence on Mrs. Weasley's other side. "And why are we only getting sandwiches?"

"What?" Mrs. Weasley was wiping mayonnaise off her hand. "Oh, I need to be back at Headquarters soon. Bethy, dear, be sure to visit the Streelers this afternoon and get some of that venom – the Horklumps are getting far too widespread in that garden of yours. I'd do it myself but I won't be here for a few hours. You kids are on your own today, but don't worry, we'll send someone over by dinner."

She left five minutes afterward.

"What's so important that the Order has to be away the rest of the day?" Harry asked.

"Who knows?" Ron said.

"You know," Ginny said, "Sometimes I kind of wish we were back in London. At least _then_ we'd know more."

Hermione however dashed to grab a copy of the Daily Prophet sitting in the corner. "Oh my!" she said.

"What?" Ginny asked.

Hermione pushed the paper onto the table. The headline said in bold print "Recently Recaptured Death Eaters On the Loose Once More."

* * *

They all started talking at once and in the confusion no one seemed to notice Liz was oddly quiet. The jabbering lasted for a good five minutes, which is a long time for nonstop chaotic conversation. Obviously the Order was trying to find and recapture the Death Eaters, and obviously they didn't want the kids in any way involved. 

"I'd like to stick around and discuss this with you all," Liz said, sighing, getting up to get a few peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to go, "But I've got some color confused snails to deal with."

"Oh, you can put that off," Ron said.

Liz smiled. "No, don't think I can, though there's no doubt that I'd like to," she said.

"Do you have anything at all to say about this?" Ginny said, poking the Daily Prophet.

"I'd rather not think about it," Liz said, her nose scrunching up as if the story in the paper was emitting some repulsing smell. "However, I have to think about those stupid prickly mushroom things that are going to cover the whole golf course by morning if I don't go deal with them now."

"You have a _golf_ course?" Harry asked (thinking it might not be so bad to have a distraction from about a dozen dangerous refugee wizards . . . at least for the others. It might lead to dangerous conversation.).

"Yeah," Liz said heavily. "I despise the game. I suppose there isn't a use for it now, though, since it was my dad who played."

"But your dad would be mad if he came home to find his runway covered in Horklumps, wouldn't he?" Hermione said.

Harry's eyes widened and he looked at Liz fearfully. He was pretty sure everyone would notice if he punched Ron to tell him to layoff, so stopping him was out of the question. But maybe Liz would finally enlighten them and tell them all about her family status; as of this summer, an orphan.

Liz looked away and seemed awfully devoted to packing her sandwiches as quickly as possible. She rushed off to find two baskets, one for food and one for jars (to hold the venom). At practically the speed of light she grabbed gloves. She finally answered Ron. "I suppose he would. But he's not coming home." She left the room so fast Harry could swear she caused wind.

Ginny, Hermione, and Ron stared after her.

"What?" Ron wore a puzzled expression on his face.

"My sentiments exactly," Hermione said, cocking her head to the side.

A few minutes passed as the others grabbed some sandwiches and started eating. Harry noticed that Kairi, the Kneazle, shifting uncomfortably. He heard the cat like creature's message in his head. "Go after her! Pretend to take me to the menagerie as an excuse to leave, but don't just stand there like an idiot!"

Remembering that the animal inhabitants of the manor could communicate with one person without being overheard, Harry picked her up and said, "I'm going to take Kairi up to the roof, she must be tired."

He trotted out of the dining room.

Kairi squirmed in his arms. "Okay, getting a _bit_ uncomfortable put me down."

"Lead the way," Harry said.

They found Liz inside a giant glass case full of giant snails and she was wearing thick gloves and a bandana to protect her hair. She seemed to be humming what sounded like "A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes."

_That was an amazingly fast change_, Harry thought.

Much to Harry's surprise, the snails were changing colors as he looked at them.

Tearing his eyes away from the brightness of the shells, Harry knocked on the open glass door.Liz's tunefaltered at the strain that was meant to say "_in dreams you will lose your heartache_" aspaused a moment, stock stiff, before deciding not to look up at him. She continued to hum "_whatever you wish for you keep_"as if she didn't know he was there.

"Kinda ran out on us, didn't you?" he said.

She stopped humming. "What was I supposed to say, Harry?" Liz said, looking up at him with her eyebrows raised, holding a jar that was full of acidic looking yellow slime. She put on a mock thoughtful expression. "No Ron, I don't think Dad will mind not having a golf course anymore because, well, he's dead and can't enjoy it anyway," she said, her words dripping with sarcasm.

"You've got to tell them _sometime_, Liz," Harry said. "It might even make you feel better."

"Like you talked to them about your godfather?" she said. "Like you told to them about the prophecy?"

"Hey, that's different," Harry said calmly.

"Sorry," Liz said a little brusquely, stooping to scoop up more slime. "And they'll know about Dad eventually."

"How's that?"

"They'll be invited to the funeral," Liz said with an innocent shrug.

"That's not the point," Harry said throwing his hands up in irritation.

"Harry," Liz said, a little angrily. "I can't do it. There are a lot of things I _can_ do, but trust me _this_ isn't one of them. It's killing me that I can't do it, but the fact remains that I just can't do this." (A/N: can you say obsessive-compulsive disorder? Just thought I'd say so – some people don't always catch things like that.)

"Well," Harry said, "it's up to you. You tell them when you're ready. You don't need to be able to deal with it now, nobody expects you to be that perfect."

Liz looked at him a brief moment seeming surprised. "Thanks, Harry," she said, closing a jar, wrapping it in foil (or what looked like foil), and put it in one of the baskets. She finished her song out loud:

"_No matter how your heart is grieving  
If you keep on believing  
The dream that you wish  
Will come true . . . "_

"Figures that you sing a Cinderella song when you're doing a chore. Need help with that?" Harry asked, picking up an empty jar.

"Yeah, actually," she answered. "Go put on some gloves. This stuff stings like a swarm of murderous bees."

"Nice to know."

Harry went back down into the house as Liz was putting the Streeler venom into what looked like glass golf balls with an amazingly heavy syringe. He had told her he was going to replenish their sandwich supply, and he did, but he had another mission. Going as quickly as possible, Harry went to find the other kids.

He found them in the Owl Post room, where there were about fifteen regular post owls (mainly tawny owls, eagle owls, and horned rimmed owls) and five express post owls (Pig sized). Hermione, it seemed, was returning Krum's package.

"You guys want to help kill some pests?" Harry said.

"You mean the Horklumps?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah."

Ron scratched his head. "Hey, Harry, do you know anything about, you know – "

"I'd suggest you not bring it up," Harry told him. "She'll tell, er, _us_ when she's ready."

"I'm really worried about her, Harry," Hermione said. "I wonder what's wrong . . . "

Harry nodded. "But it's best if we drop it for now, so please, don't mention it, at least not now."

Hermione looked at him suspiciously but nodded and said, "All right."

"I'm going to go deliver these," Harry said, holding up the basket of sandwiches. "Follow in a minute."

Taking the express (those teleporting sofas), Harry soon found Liz at hole seven on the golf course. A golf cart was parked behind her, and it had a golf bag full of clubs in it. Harry looked at the runway and saw that this part of the course was covered in mushroom looking things from the middle of the runway to the hole.

"Hey, Harry," she said. She took the basket of venom balls out of the golf cart.

"Hey," he answered, still looking at the flag that was about 200 meters away from where they were standing. "A little far, aren't you? It's another sixty meters before the fungus actually starts."

"No," Liz said, cocking her head and measuring the distance with her eyes. "This is good," she said giving a satisfactory nod.

She started unloading the golf bag as well. She stopped and waved at Ron, Ginny, and Hermione who were coming up towards them.

Ginny saw Liz handling the golf bag. "I thought you didn't like golf," she said smiling.

"I don't," Liz said simply.

"What's '_golf_' anyway?" Ron said.

"Muggle sport," Harry said to him. "Point of the game is to get the ball into that hole right underneath that flag in the least amount of hits by the club."

"That's awfully boring," Ron said.

"Where's the fun in that?" Ginny commented.

Hermione then said, "The attraction of the game is that it's pretty difficult. I play a little myself. My father is a member of the country club."

"Want to take the first shot?" Liz said to picking out a nine iron. She looked at the club at arm's length a moment with a slightly disgusted expression on her face. She handed Hermione the club and put a venom ball on a tee. "The glass is charmed so it breaks only on the second impact. So you hit it, it hits the ground, it breaks, and the venom kills the Horklumps."

"I'll right," Hermione said. "I'll take a whack at it." She did whack at the ball. It veered a little off course and it landed just within the start of the Horklumps.

"Only a slight hook, and I'd say about sixty-five meters," Liz commented.

"I thought you didn't like golf!" Ron commented, repeating Ginny's words.

"I don't," Liz said again as they all watched a ten foot radius of Horklumps shrivel up and die.

Liz then got another tee and another venom ball. She also picked out a driver. She put the ball on the tee, adjusted her stance, swung back swiftly and gracefully and swung down again and the club head met the ball with a clean, crisp WHICK. They all watched in surprise as the ball soared all two hundred yards to the middle of the green and Harry could have sworn it landed within a foot of the hole before it exploded and cleared off most of the green.

"I thought you didn't like golf!" Harry exclaimed.

"And I keep telling you," Liz said, "I don't."

"But you're so good at it!" Hermione said.

"If it were a real golf ball," Harry said, "it would have been a hole in one!"

"Yeah," Ginny said. "Whatever that means."

"You don't know that," Liz said lightly.

"How can you hate the game, though?" Ginny asked. "And still be good at it?"

Liz thought a moment. "I don't know . . . just because you're good at something doesn't mean you have to like it. But if you like it you have more of 'drive' so to speak to be better. Sometimes I just like whacking the heck out of the ball at the driving range."

"Why?" Ron asked.

Another pause as Liz got another ball. She shrugged as she put the ball down on the ground. "Some people used chi gong balls to relieve their stress. There really isn't much of a difference between this – " she hit the ball, "and that," she finished looking back towards Ron.

They spent the next hour or two hitting venom balls into the runway. Liz let them use the irons and woods as well as some old beaters clubs.

When that was done, they went to Liz's room to watch a movie. The first hour of that was spent attempting to explain the concept of a movie to Ron and Ginny. Finally, after much debate, they finally came to a conclusion that "a movie is a series of moving pictures that have sound and deliver a story." Hermione, slightly annoyed that it had taken Ron so long to grasp the movie concept, chose Spiderman as the movie they were to watch. Harry saw that Ron bolted to the bathroom during the whole field trip scene at the beginning of the movie. Harry also observed Liz's excessive blinking at the scene where Peter Parker's Uncle Ben died. Hermione and Ginny joined Liz as they all teared up at the end where Peter was talking to Mary Jane at Norman Osborn's funeral.

_Girls!_ He thought.

"_Whatever life holds in store for me, I will never forget these words: with great power, comes great responsibility. This is my gift, my curse. Who am I? I'm Spiderman."_

"What?" Ron and Ginny said simultaneously.

"That's how it ends?" Ron said.

"That's not fair!" Ginny cried out.

"Is that Osborn kid going to kill Spiderman?"

"Are M.J. and Peter going to get together?"

"I don't like movies!" Ron said.

Liz laughed. "Don't worry, there's a sequel!" Shebegan singing along to the song that was playing for the credits.

"Oh," Ginny said. "Good."

Ron got up and stretched. "You know, I think Spiderman is the only spider that I can stand, but then again, he doesn't have eight limbs. Spiders better not know how to swing on their webs, though. And if they did, they better not know how to aim."

"I really liked it," Hermione said. "But that end was so sad!"

"What? The Green Goblin died, didn't he?" Ron said. "Poor idiot, if he hadn't done that experiment thing or tried to kill Spiderman he'd have been okay. Did you see that? He got himself killed with that glider."

"As opposed to Spiderman murdering the Goblin himself?" Harry said quietly. _Like I have to do. At least I know that no one'll be missing Voldemort - no little Riddle to take care of._

"Yeah," Ron said, with a puzzled look as he saw Harry's strangely displaced expression.

The discussion ended there as they all went off to see if anybody from the Order would show up for dinner. Harry's mind however was full of thoughts about the prophecy. He didn't have a choice of how he dealt with Voldemort. He had to actually murder one of the most powerful wizards in the world. Harry sighed. If Voldemort got _himself_ killed Harry's life would be so much easier. But Harry knew that just wasn't going to happen. It wasn't even an option.

Harry's steps were lagging as the group headed off. Liz sprinted to catch up to him because she had been delayed putting away the movie.

"It's been years since I first saw that movie and I still love it," she said, stopping to frown when she saw Harry wasn't in much of a chatting mood. "Hey, you okay?"

Harry shrugged. "Guess so."

"You know," Liz started slowly, "you remind me a lot of him."

Harry laughed. "You mean I look like Thomas Maguire?"

Liz rolled her eyes. "It's _Tobey_ Maguire, and no, that's not what I mean."

"Then what?"

"You were born with a remarkable destiny, Harry. You were destined for power and greatness and you've shown yourself worthy of such a future."

"And what price do I have to pay for it?" Harry said. "I have no parents, not even a godfather anymore, I've lost a friend, and the number of casualties in this Godforsaken war is rising and I'm sick of it."

"Harry – " Liz started to interrupt.

"I never asked for this!" Harry said. "I never wanted my life to be like this."

"Harry, calm down – "

"Actually, I was never given the chance to find out what I wanted my life to be," Harry said, ranting now that the others were out of earshot. "It was all decided before I could."

"Harry!"

"What?"

"What I was _trying_ to say is that you," she paused and glared at him in frustration, "you're strong enough to handle it. You are among the rare people who could shoulder this magnificent burden. There are so many people out there who have _faith_ in you, Harry. Everyone, it seems, except you. Go figure."

They had stopped walking and Liz stood facing Harry with her arms folded across her chest. She was looking at him expectantly.

_How exactly does someone respond to that?_ Harry thought.

"Er . . . okay . . . " he said, and as an afterthought he added, "Thanks."

Liz shook her head and said playfully, "You worry me, Harry."

"Thank you for the concern," Harry said.

"And besides . . . it wasn't as if your path was decided for you. You really make your own destiny. I mean, maybe you were destined to fight Voldemort . . . but looking back, would you change what you've done? Does it really matter that it's your destiny? Don't you think you did what you did because you wanted to?"

Harry stared at her.

Liz lingered for a moment, biting her lip. She was genuinely worried over Harry's welfare, but she had a feeling he didn't need to see another person fretting over him. The moment passed and she trotted after him.

(A/N: Don't read too much into the Spiderman movie pick, I just wanted to use the dying father figure and spiders, and those last few lines of the movie, nothing else, and plus, I just watched the sequel and to tell you the truth I'm a little addicted at the moment – more of a Tobey addiction actually – you can so tell how long ago I wrote this. Oh, and I'm tired of all this drama too. Geez. But I just can't seem to stop. I need a little more comic relief.)

Dinnertime came and went and nobody came. Hermione started to boil water to make macaroni and cheese while Liz was teaching Harry how to grill hamburgers (Liz oddly enough humming "Hero" sung by Chad Kroeger). Ron and Ginny were setting the table when the door of the dining room banged open. There were a few recognizable Order of the Phoenix members who were all sweaty and sooty, as if they'd been through the fires of hell and back. They also dragged in some new arrivals, all of whom coughing and shaking. The current inhabitants of the dining room had to look twice before they realized these new arrivals were people they knew.

A/N: That's not a very suspenseful cliff hangar, but it is one. Who are they, and why are they there? Hm. I know, but do you? This is something new, I didn't hint at it before, but it is just common sense that it probably would happen in the sixth book. Sorry about that whole badly written scene with the mention of Spiderman, but I'm going through a slight Tobey Maguirething right now, as I did when Pleasantville came out. Okay, review people! Kind of crappy, I know, but try anyway to flatter me, okay? Lol, just playing, but please review. Thanks!


End file.
